This Weekend
by Ruby-Wednesday
Summary: AH "What are you doing this weekend?" Bella thinks she's got it all figured out...until her absent and intriguing lab partner Edward Cullen comes into the picture. A lot can change over the course of a single weekend.
1. Chapter 1

Bella loves the weekend. The freedom, the fun, the break from school and studying. She wants nothing more than to hang out with friends, laugh, dance, go out and get drunk. She spends most of her time with Rose and Alice, her two best friends who have recently acquired new boyfriends. This forces her to spend time with her absent and intriguing lab partner; Edward Cullen.

Follow her and her friends over the course of a single weekend in which everything is the same and everything changes.

This is an all-human story. Some OOC behaviour. Rated M for swearing and some mature themes. All recognizable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Any music references belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

_When it gets too much  
__I live for the rush__  
Got some money to spend  
Living for the Weekend_

_-  
_

The bell shrieks loudly and a stampede of students flee the classroom. I gather my books and give the floundering teacher a small smile. You can tell she's new by the way she waited until the end of class to give the homework assignments. Now we can all pretend to not have heard her. I would feel sorry for her rookie mistake but I get caught up in the swell of eager students in the hallway.

I allow myself to be swept to my locker where eager chatter and weekend plans fill my ears. The sense of anticipation, the relief that comes at the weeks end, is thick in the air and I am almost giddy.

It's only lunchtime but that won't quell the Friday Feeling.

I stash my bag and navigate my way towards the exit. A tampon sails pass my head; a favor from one senior girl to another. Shyness has no place in these hallways. I'm just grateful they aren't sharing condoms.

I don't hate school. Truly I don't. Learning can be fun and routine suits me. Without school, how would I appreciate the weekend? But it's banal and I feel hemmed in and the only redeeming feature is the occasional time my biology partner shows up.

I reach the outside and breathe deeply. The air is fresh and I am grateful to be free from the musty school scent - stale lunches, stinky freshmen and whiteboard markers- that no amount of air freshener will cover. The sun is bright and the wind is slightly cold and I like the way it wakes me up.

"Thank fuck it's Friday." I greet my friends Alice and Rose who wait for me at the gate.

"Truth." they agree and we link arms to walk to lunch.

My girls don't got to school with me. Perhaps it would be more bearable if they did. Alice attends some artsy school outside town where they sit on beanbags and talk about feelings. Her closest friend is the janitor. She's just not quite odd enough to fit in there. In my school she'd be a freak. Rosalie is slightly older. Her mom home-schooled her so Rose could concentrate on her modeling career without something as trite as education getting in the way. The day she turned eighteen, she enrolled in the local college to study engineering and now she only works when and if it suits her.

I am lucky to have friends like these. Before I met them, during my time with the New Girl stamp on my forehead, I spent my lunches with Jess. A nice enough girl with whom I had little in common and I always ran out of something to talk about before I'd finished my sandwich. The first time I met Alice, I was crying in the bathroom in the mall. An over-eager stylist had persuaded me to get highlights in my dark brown hair. Promised natural blondes and reds turned out to be yellows and oranges. Alice took me home and showed me her hat collection. Her best friend Rosalie came over with Nice 'n Easy in natural dark auburn and we never looked back from there.

They've taught me a lot, about life and myself, and I've never felt more at home with anyone else.

Together we stroll over the bridge towards town. The crosswind almost blows my uniform skirt up around my waist. I had the sense to wear leggings this morning so I leave it whip around my legs. I have learned that it looks much better to not react and just go with that kind of thing.

"How was school?" Rose asks sympathetically.

"Newton tried to engage me in a riveting game of Hangman during Spanish class." I answer.

"And how did that go?" Alice says.

"Great," I roll my eyes. "His word was boobies and he drew some on the stick figure. My word was imbecile and he spelled it with an 's'."

We chuckle and enter the diner. Billy's is the kind of place where the menu has illustrative photos which in no way resemble the food served. The waitresses have backcombed hair and acrylic nails and blow bubbles while they take your order. The jukeboxes don't work. Instead pop songs are piped through tinny speakers at a volume so loud you have to shout over. We love it here.

The diner is buzzing with the lunchtime crowd and we are lucky enough to find a vacant booth. I slide onto red mock-leather, rearrange my skirt and peruse the menu.

"So what's the POA for the weekend?" I ask. I normally leave it to the girls to make the plans. It's easier that way. I pretend not to notice the look the share above their menus. I know it means we'll be with the boys. That's cool with me. I like Emmett and Jasper. I don't feel like a fifth wheel or at least I try not to. I only feel uncomfortable when they try even out the number and that discomfort is not for the reason they think.

Out of all the boys who want Rosalie, she had to fall for my lab partner's brother.

"Emmett said something about DVDs and pizza in his place tonight if we're interested." Rosalie replies.

That's code for watching them make out in the dark but I nod anyway.

"And we're def hitting the club tomorrow night," Alice continues. "I've got a new dress that is just screaming to be worn. We can get ready in my house first."

That's code for getting giggly tipsy before we go anywhere and I can't wait.

"Fine by me," I agree. I need the release of a mad weekend to keep me sane. God knows, it's the only kind of release I'm getting.

A pretty young waitress comes to our table. It must suck to have to serve all these immature assholes at lunch. They act like they're better than everyone and I fell sorry for Kim in her grease-stained apron. We order the unhealthiest stodgiest food available. It's tradition. We need soakage, to line our stomachs for what's ahead and to just relax. We eat salad during the week but now we need burgers. Plus I've got a wad of cash in my pocket just waiting to be spent.

Ordinarily I am careful with money. I work part-time, I save my money for college and don't like to be a burden to my parents. But when I get guilt money in the mail from Phil by way of apology for taking my mother away from me, well I spend that like it's burning a hole in my pocket.

We laugh and gossip while we wait for our food. I listen while they gush about boyfriends and the wonders of love and lust. I'm not a bitter singleton, I just have little to add to the conversation Their relationships are new and exciting and their cheeks kind of glow when they talk. It makes me feel a little bit lonely and a little bit left out - like that year in summer camp when girls were filling bras and I was wearing an undershirt.

My mind wanders. I think about feeling that tingle they speak of. Would I even recognise it? I think I'd know it. I think of biology class and my neck gets warm.

"Earth to Bella," Alice waves her hand in front of my face. "God, are you even paying attention?"

"Sorry," I shake my head to clear it. "What were you saying?"

"Is it true about Lauren and Tyler going at it in the supply closet?" she continues.

I nod and lean in conspiratorially. There's something about that Mallory girl that bring out my bitchy side.

"She was caught on her knees beside the mop bucket. Apparently that creepy James guy opened the door at the most inopportune moment and caught the whole thing on his video phone." I say.

"That's wrong on so many levels." Rosalie grimaces and shakes her head.

Alice sighs. "Nothing like that ever happens in my school."

"And that's something to be eternally grateful for," Rose tells her. "Would you prefer if James still went there?"

"God no." Alice shivers. "That psychopathic bastard is gonna appear on America's Most Wanted one day. Mark my words."

"Look," I incline my head in the direction of the booth opposite. Lauren and her posse of wannabe Gossip Girls are crunching on rabbit food. Who goes to a greasy spoon diner to eat lettuce?

She waves - a sly little wiggle of her fingers- and a dollop of creamy salad dressing drips from the corner of her mouth. What can we do but burst into uncontrollable giggles?

Then, Rosalie's sparkly phone buzzes and sings at us from the table. The interruption brings our giggling to a halt.

"Hey Em," she croons into the phone.

Alice makes a gagging motion that sets off another round of laughter and Rose flicks the wrapper from her straw at us. I catch snippets of her conversation.

"…ya we just ordered….me, Alice and Bella…see you in a sec." She hangs up and addresses us. "The boys are on their way here."

Alice whips out a compact and applies some more lilac lip-gloss. It kind of makes her resemble a corpse. My gaze travels towards the door and I have to squint because the fluorescent lights are in my eyes.

Emmett walks in first, all brawny and full of life. He's followed by Jasper, who is pushing his blonde hair out of his eyes and walking with this inimitable sense of ease. I notice them, naturally. Everyone in the vicinity with a working set of ovaries does.

But I don't really _see _them.

All I see is Edward.

Edward Cullen. My absent lab partner. Emmett's younger brother. The only guy who makes my heart beat faster.

He's trailing behind them with his hands in his pockets. His distinctive mop of hair shines under the fluorescent lights his pale skin is complimented by a slate grey hoody. He's the closest thing to perfect I've ever seen.

I wish I wasn't wearing my uniform. I wish I straightened my hair this morning. I wish I hadn't misspelled organism that one time in bio. I wish all these things while Edward saunters through the diner and then I pray he will sit beside me.

The others are doing that slightly awkward half-standing, kiss on cheeks greeting thing. I wave hello at Emmett and Jasper, while Rose moves to let Jasper slide in beside Alice. The food comes and the boys order more and the whole time I'm just watching Edward hang back.

He has three option. Squish in beside Emmett. Pull over a chair from another table. Or sit next to me. I resist the urge to pat the vinyl seat beside me.

"Do you mind?" he asks, nodding to the empty space.

"Oh no, of course not," I mumble, hating the heat I feel in my cheeks.

The seat dips with the weight of his body and my heart rate spikes. This feeling isn't new to me. The rare times he comes to biology incites this in me all the time. But then, it's more formal and our shoulders don't touch like they are now.

"How are you anyway, Bella?" he asks.

"I'm good thanks. And you?" My voice comes out too high.

"Fine," he smiles.

I unwrap my cutlery in an attempt to mask my instinct to swoon.

"How's school?" he continues and it seems like he's being a bit of a smart-ass.

"Alright," I tell him, finally remembering that I have a voice and a personality. "Y'know, for those of us who actually attend classes."

He smirks at my dig. "Why bother? Life is so much easier my way."

Yeah. Easier. And isolated.

"Speaking of easy," he continues. "Did you finish the bio assignment?"

"Yup. It's not due 'till Wednesday but I'll email it to you before then if you want to look over the finished product,"

He shrugs. "Whatever suits you."

We've reached the end of the road in terms of things to talk about so I begin to concentrate on my food. I can feel Lauren's eyes on me from across the aisle. Lunch with the elusive Edward Cullen is breaking news to the likes of her. She's one of his many female admirers. I wonder is he even aware of the effect he has on people. He's good-looking and charming and mysterious. I compare their misplaced feeling to having a crush on a celebrity - fun but ultimately pointless.

Sometime I place myself in the same category. He sits beside me for maybe an hour a fortnight if I'm lucky but what do I really know about him?

I know he sometimes writes in green ink. I know his email address and that he always signs off with the word 'best', because that's how we deal with shared assignments. He does his half, I do mine and we email them to each other. No after school study groups for us.

I know his dad is a doctor. I know his brother is his best friend. I know he's smart and he never goes to school. Rumour has it he bribed the admin office to always mark him present. Some say he's a genius. Others say he pays people to do his homework.

But one time I saw him in the college library, hunched over a desk with papers all around him. His eyebrows were creased with concentration and he was furiously highlighting passages. So clearly he does have to study to get those perfect grades.

I know he drinks straight vodka - no ice. I know that when the sun shines his hair looks the colour of an old penny and it makes a v-shape on the back of his neck. I know he hates onions and never dates.

But none of these things mean that I know him, no matter how much I try and tell myself otherwise.

Frustrated by my secrets, I listen to Jasper and Rose bicker about last night's game. It means nothing to me. I stretch across the table for the ketchup, not wanting to interrupt the conversation. My arm isn't long enough to reach and I'm about to get up but Edward passes it to me.

"Thanks." I mutter gratefully.

My fries deserve my concentration again. I stab one with my fork and use my knife to smear it with ketchup. I pick up my burger and catch sight of Alice delicately nibbling hers. Rose is actually feeding Emmett fries in a nauseatingly cutesy way. I want to gag but instead I tear off a ginormous chunk of meat. I spear another fry and paint it red.

Blood rushes to my cheeks and paints them red too, when I notice Edward watching me intently. Discreetly, I check my reflection in the napkin dispenser. After ascertaining he's not gawking at some hideous blemish I return his stare. Most people would look away, avert their eyes in natural action.

Not this guy. He captures my gaze and holds me in place. It strikes me that this is the first time he's ever looked me straight in the eye. I can't look away. Why would I even want to? His eyes are greener than I had thought and full of a weary intensity. Why won't he let me look away?

Kim comes back, her arms shaking from the weight of the laden down tray. The moment has passed and we all go back to eating. Alice kicks me under the table but I ignore her.

Edward uses his knife to cut his burger in half. He looks inside before he bites. He eats his fries with a fork and spreads his ketchup with a knife. If he wasn't sitting on the outside of the booth, I think I might fall off my seat with the illogical elation that action brings.

We share a smile and then I duck my head. Why does he turn me right back into an awkward pre-teen? My hair forms a curtain across my shoulders that I leave closed.

The boys become engrossed in the serious business of eating so us girls chat among ourselves. We plan outfits and schedules. We argue about what movie to rent later. I relax again slightly though I can never quite forget Edward's presence beside me. It's like my body is aware of him, even when my mind doesn't want to be. Inwardly, I sigh. When did things get so complicated?

When the food is gone and Emmett and Rosalie's game of footsie has gone as far it can in a public place, it seems like a good time to leave. We all toss our money on the table. Edward picks it up, tidies up the notes and adds extra for the tip.

Outside, I turn to go one way and everyone else goes the other.

"Aren't you coming Bella?" calls Emmett. "I promise I cleaned up since the last time."

Huh? I turn around, confused. They can tell.

"To Emmett's," Rose reminds me. "I thought you said you were going to hang out with us."

"Now?" I question. "But I'm meant to go back to school."

"Live dangerously," teases Jasper. "I'm sure you won't miss much in one afternoon."

I stand and blink, considering my options.

I could be a good girl, go back to school and diligently take notes. I could listen to that Miley Cyrus song we secretly like on my iPod and wonder how on earth I can relate to tween pop tunes about stuttering.

I could go hang out with my friends, start the weekend early. I could use that time to surreptitiously continue to mentally stalk Edward Cullen. I could be rendered feeling left out and awkward.

"Come on Bella," Edward turns around and waves at me to follow. " Ditching a couple classes never hurt anyone. Trust me."

The problem is, I do trust him already. That could definitely lead to hurt.

But it's the weekend. I don't want to go back to school. I want to have fun.

My mind is mind up for me and I wonder if his hands have some kind of magnetic pull. I fall into step beside them and inside I'm whooping with the freedom of it all.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Reviews are always welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

_Today is Friday, it is my day to disappear  
To kings and queens and make-believe and the demons in my head  
Would you come along, bring me in?  
_

_-_

We turn the corner as a group and I feel strangely powerful. I've got that sense of invincibility that comes with a group mentality. Or perhaps it's just a sense of belonging.

Either way_, _it feels good to stride along the path with these people. Our footsteps are in unison and I walk as tall as I can in my snowboots. We're not split into couples or girls vs. boys. We are a solid entity and I wish it could be like this all the time. I want to absorb the confidence and beauty they exude.

Emmett's got his arm slung over Rosalie's shoulder and Jasper playfully shoves Edward into a puddle.

If this was a movie, we'd be walking down a busy hallway in some glossy high school. The camera work would be in slow motion and everyone would turn and stare at us. I'd be wearing a designer ensemble instead of my hoody-slash-school uniform combo and Edward Cullen would be holding my hand.

Life ain't like that. We're navigating cracked pavement and Edward hasn't looked at me since I agreed to go. The only person that stares is a perv in Honda who is checking out Rosalie's ass.

His voice pulls me out of my daydream - more distinctive to me than all the rest.

"See you later, guys." he says with a lazy wave of his hand.

Edward walks straight out onto the road. He doesn't stop or look both ways, he just crosses. And magically, cars slow for him and he gives a slight nod as acknowledgment. If that was me, there is no doubt I'd end up plastered to the ground like the Road Runner and my dad would have to come back from his fishing weekend to scrape me up.

"Where's he off to?" I ask Alice in my best nonchalant voice.

She shrugs but her expression is quizzical. If the boys weren't here she would be squealing and wanting to know why I care.

"Gone to get his stuff." Jasper answers.

The man of few words doesn't really offer much explanation and I don't push, for fear of looking desperate.

My mood has darkened considerably. Odd numbers are no good for dramatic walking but I do my best to be bright. It's Friday evening and I didn't ditch class to pine over a boy. Besides, I'm fairly sure I'm transferring my insecurities and left-out feeling onto Edward. I mean, what makes him so different than the other guys I meet?

I only half include myself in conversation for the rest of the walk.

Emmett lives in a swanky apartment in the centre of town. I guess that's one of the perks for coming from a 'good' family and by good I mean rich. The Swans are good people too, but we don't have floor to ceiling windows and flat-screen TVs in every room. Jasper lives there too but I'm fairly certain Dr. Cullen is the one paying all the rent.

I've been here before. I've ridden in this elevator. I've stumbled down the plush-carpeted hallways and held on to the Magnolia walls for support. I've passed out on his couch and ate hot toast dripping with butter, from the chrome toaster in the kitchen.

But it was different then. It was dark and late. We were drunk and I didn't want to go home.

In the harsh light of day, I feel awkward and more aware of my surroundings. I don't want to spill anything here.

Jasper holds the door while we troop in. It's cleaner than I remembered. The curtains are closed. The room is dark and warm from being shut up. A sliver of light escapes a crack in the shades and I see dust dance in it's spotlight.

The leather couch looks comfy. The TV is huge. There are several bowls of candy on the coffee table and an open pack of chips on the ground. Alice and Rose walk around like they own the place and I follow them into the kitchen. We are to make coffee. I don't drink it but I stay to help anyway.

Alice perches on the counter while Rose rifles through a drawer for a clean spoon.

"Isn't it good that you and Edward get along?" Alice asks. I don't know if there's pity there for leaving me out or if she's trying to set me up again.

I roll my eyes. "He barely said two words to me."

"That's more than he says to most people he doesn't know." replies Rose.

How would she even know that?

"We're meant to be lab partners so he knows me a little. He's only being polite." I say.

"And would you like him to be more than polite?" teases Alice. "Hmm… I bet beneath that respectful exterior there's an animal just waiting to get out-"

I cut her off with a slap on the arm. "Shut up! I don't even like him."

"I think you're protesting a little too much there, Bella sweets. But we'll let it slide for now." Rosalie can kill you with kindness,

I look around for a distraction and pray they don't notice the blush creeping up my neck.

There is food every where in the apartment. Junk food to be specific. Bowls of candy sit on every surface, sweet and sickly and begging to be eaten. Bags of chips loiter near chairs, carefully held together with clothes-pegs. A crate of Coke sits on top of the crate of Corona by the fridge. It's a welcoming feature of the boys home, it's a clear sign they want their guests to be comfortable.

One bowl looks untouched. It's practically overflowing with grass-green and skin-pink candy. I feel sorry for it, sitting all alone and neglected and pick up a piece out of curiosity.

"Bella, no!" shouts Jasper.

I jump and drop the candy. I hadn't noticed them come in.

"What the fuck?" Alice slaps him lightly on the shoulder. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry," he tells her with a sickening kiss. "But that shit is nasty. I was looking out for Bella."

I am still confused.

"Seriously," agrees Emmett. "That bowl's been sitting there since we moved in. No-one ever eats it."

"What did you _do _to it?" I ask, knowing well the pranks they can get up to house parties. I once saw them oven bake a shoe for fun.

"Nothing. It's just a gross rhubarb and custard flavour. It reminds me of an old folks home."

"That is so ageist." Rosalie chastises him half-heartedly.

I pick up another piece and pop it into my mouth. It's not so bad, the bittersweet taste appeals to me. Everyone is watching me, wide-eyed and mouths agape. I eat another just to bug them and refuse to speak with my mouth full.

"Well?" asks Jasper.

I shrug. "I've tasted worse."

They all break out into a relieved laugh and I am happy to join in. We make our way back into the living area and Emmett claps me on the back when I pass him. The force almost knocks me over.

The door opens and in walks Edward. How could I have forgotten how gorgeous he is in such a short time? My heart lurches at the sight. His cheeks are tinged pink from the cold and his hair is windswept.

"What's going on?" he asks, picking up on the buoyant mood.

Emmett points at me. "She ate one of the Rhubarb and Custards."

"Really?" says Edward. His face holds a mixture of admiration and disgust.

I nod kind of sheepishly. But he's not looking at me anymore. His eyes are on the dining table and his face drops.

There are books and papers strewn all over the glass surface. Passages are highlighted and there's an open copy of _Ulysses _with green scribbles in the margin. I've been struggling with my paper on that all week.

I realise then, that this is could often be the place Edward goes instead of school. How simple. I spot a familiar striped tie draped across the back of one chair. I am wearing a matching one underneath my hoody. He walks over to the table and begins to tidy away his stuff.

As Alice and Rose squeeze into an armchair and Jasper and Emmett sprawl on the couch, I don't quite know what to do with myself. I can hardly plop myself in between the two boys. I decide to drag a dining chair over.

Edward is hastily shuffling loose pages together and shoving things into a folder. When he sees me beside him, he stops and gives me a sheepish smile that says the jig is up. I wonder why he seems to be hiding this.

I stand with my hand on the back of the nearest chair and finger the poly-silk blend of our school tie.

"It's a coincidence, isn't it?" he asks. "Us being lab partners and Emmett and Rose getting together."

"A small world." I agree.

"I've never seen Emmett like this before, to fall for a girl like he has for Rose." Edward says her name with such familiarity. I knew her for a year before I called her Rose.

I nod and hazard a glance in their direction. No-one will hear us over the din of the PS3 anyway.

"He's good for her," I agree. "I can't imagine anyone else would know to buy her the box-set of Top Gear for their one month anniversary."

We share a laugh and gain the attention of the others. Emmett looks strangely proud. Maybe he heard me.

"How are you getting on with the English assignment?" he asks me. We're making small talk again and I wrap the tie around my index finger.

Mr. Berty, the English teacher is a sadist. There is no other explanation for it. He has challenged my class to the most impossible assignment and this is coming from someone who _likes_ English.

I scrunch my nose. "It's hard. I'm reading it but I don't really _get _it. It's not due 'til Wednesday so I'm not even gonna think about over the weekend."

"Sounds like a plan," Edward smiles. "I'm don't want to look at these books again for a long time."

"Did your class get the same paper?" I ask, anxious to prolong the conversation.

He smirks at me. "I'm in your class, Bella."

I am confused. I've never ever seen him there or heard mention of him. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

How could I have not noticed him? I snake the school tie around one forearm and cast my mind back.

"I've never heard your name during role call." I tell him.

He shrugs. " I get marked present though. The teacher doesn't like me. Apparently having opinions about English literature equates to an attitude problem. He's happier when I don't challenge him and I'm happier when I don't have to listen to his remedial teaching. It's a win-win situation."

I forget sometimes, that I only moved here two years ago. All the rest have this history that I am not part of. I try to imagine a gangly pubescent Edward showing up the ignorant teachers and think it would have been nice to see that.

"You teach yourself?" I question, curiosity overtaking my social propriety.

Edward shrugs again. "Sometimes. It's more challenging that way. Other times I get recordings of classes."

He gestures to the iPod on the table and I figure he must listen to classes on it. How lonely.

"You know Ben?" he asks. "He records the stuff and sends it to me sometimes. It's nothing I can't figure out on my own but it gives me a clearer idea of what to focus on for exams."

I love listening to his melodic voice. He could have a career in radio though it would be a waste to hide that pretty face away But even more, I love that he is revealing some of the mystery surrounding him. To me. This wouldn't be so fun if it was just Alice filling me in.

I use the tie to make a figure of eight around my wrists. Edward is still speaking rapidly though we're not really making eye contact.

"Like, I found out the hard way that high school history teachers don't want in-depth analysis of the political causes of World War II. They just wants facts and figures, names and dates. Like the way you wanted to write that piece on Sunny the prostitute and our sadistic pea-brained teacher made you write that crap about the metaphor of the cliffs,"

I blink and the tie starts to cut off circulation in my wrists, I pull it so tight. We studied _The Catcher in the Rye _6 months ago and I had gotten into a slightly heated and apparently recorded debate over the homework content.

He's still talking. More words than I've ever heard him speak.

"So if you know what you're up against, it's a lot easier to contend with. And it draws less attention from those darned authority figures which is always a bonus."

He flashes a wicked smile and I think my heart skips a beat.

"Why?" I ask, doing all I can do to prolong this interaction. This is so worth skipping school for. "Wouldn't it be easier to just pick up what they want you to and regurgitate it back?"

This has always been my method for approaching school and it hasn't failed me yet.

"Oh Bella," he sighs. He says my name like he cares. "Do you really trust what everyone else tells you? If you know the whole story you can make up your own mind. I like to find out things for myself. To figure out what's true and what's worth knowing and what's really important."

I am a little overwhelmed. He is so much more than a rebel without a cause. Edward is intelligent, almost intimidating so. He's an enigma I want to get lost in. He is making me question my own attitudes as a result of a brief conversation.

And he's looking at me with such intensity that I will myself to avert my eyes but nothing in me will let me. I want to keep questioning him. I want to unravel every thread in the world he has weaved for himself and knit myself back in. I want to ask him does he really feel the conviction he spoke those words with.

But I am afraid that if I open my mouth I will confess my raging desire to lick his Adams Apple.

Rosalie's no-nonsense voice suddenly slices through the tension. "Bella, get your ass over here and check this out."

I don't move. I still can't look away as I search in vain for the answer that Edward is waiting for.

He reaches forward and I actually feel the movement through the charged air. It sends sparks my way, ones that singe my skin.

Swiftly, he pulls the tie that I have wound around my fingers. It comes loose easily, the softness glides against my skin. Then it is gone. Edward shoves it in his backpack and the moment is over.

I drag the chair over to the girls and my head feels foggy. I peer at the computer screen to see the latest update on our favourite gossip blog. I concede that it is funny but I am harbouring resentment towards Perez for pulling me away from Edward.

"What were you two talking about?" whispers Alice.

"Just school." I tell her, truthfully and noncommittally.

I watch Edward plonk himself on the couch and challenge the winner to game. Jasper and Emmett look surprisingly intimated.

"Wait 'til you see who poked Jane." says Rosalie, frantically clicking the mouse and I pretend to be interested.

We spend the next little while nosing online while the boys play. We bore easily though, and are soon distracted by the trash talk coming from the couch. Their enthusiasm and competitiveness are almost childish but it is infective.

Edward is kicking his brothers ass and Jasper is teasing them both, trying to distract them from the race or shootout or whatever it is.

"Shut up cock-breath!" shouts Emmett and I have to laugh at his creative insult.

Edward is winning and Emmett is pissed. He stomps his foot like a toddler and elbows his brother in the ribs.

"Sorry," says Jasper, drawing out the last syllable. "I'll leave you alone."

"Please do," replies Edward. "I want to beat Emmett fair and square, none of this technicality shit this time."

"Hey girls," Jasper turns his attention towards us. "Did you ever see that movie _Last Tango in Paris?"_

We watched it out of curiosity one night in Rosalie's. I couldn't put butter on my bread for about a week after.

"Yeah," Rose replies suspiciously. "Why?"

Jasper's are glinting with mischief and he says "Don't the couple in that remind you of Carlisle and Esme?"

The two Cullen heads whip up and a twin look of disgust stretches their features. I hear an awful screech and their cars crash into a wall.

"You're a dick, Whitlock." declares Emmett, reaching around the back of the couch and swatting him on the head.

Jasper responds by pucking him in the shoulder. There's going to be a fight. I can taste the testosterone in the air - all musky and dry.

Edward slides off the couch in one smooth motion and sits on the ground. In the very same instant, Emmett lunges at his provoker and the pair tussle on the couch.

The girls giggle and shriek at them to stop. Edward looks bored; he has the air of a person who has witnessed this many times before. I watch, fascinated and unaccustomed to such displays of roughhousing and pure boyness. Is this what it would be like to have brothers?

They have the most innovative insults I've ever heard. They use words like _plank _and _pussy _and_ bagel _and each one is dripping with venom and fun. I begin to understand why people watch wrestling on TV.

Edward is diligently reading the ingredients in Doritos. Do they contain anything other than flour and orange dust?

Jasper gains the upper hand and pins Emmett's hands behind his back.

"Give it up, bitch." he taunts him.

Emmett concede with a dramatic sigh and just like that, the fight is over. "I'll win next time, fuckwad." he vows.

"Promises, promises." goads Jasper.

"If you kids are done playing," Edward stands up and addresses the boys. "We're going to put on a DVD."

Everyone starts talking at once. Apparently there is a history here of poor choices. No chick-flicks. No action. No foreign films. Nothing with Kiera Knightly or Scarlett Johansson. Everyone's got an opinion and my mind is struggling to take in the scale of passion incited over this.

"Bella should pick then," announces Alice. "It can be her turn since we've all had one."

I panic. Pressure and performance anxiety pound in my chest. Surely I'll pick wrong. I shake my hand and tell them I don't mind in a small voice.

Collectively they dismiss my protests and point me in direction of the impressive DVD collection.

I stand in front of it like a deer caught in headlights until I feel a presence behind me and a calloused hand cover my eyes.

Edward's voice washes the blood that rushes in my ears. "This is how we pick," he mutters. "Close your eyes and point. No pressure."

He smells like dust and ink and smoke and I tremble as blindly jut my index forward until I feel smooth plastic at it's tip.

Behind me, Edward leans forward and the string on his hoody brushes my neck. He plucks the DVD from the shelf and finally removes his hand from my face. His fingers sweep through my hair.

"What did she pick?" calls Emmett from the couch.

I slowly turn around to face my choice and my helper. He's already walking away and telling them I picked _American History X. _

They voice approval and I exhale in relief. Positions have shifted. Rose is now snuggled next to Emmett on the couch and Alice and Jasper are holding hands across the armrest of their seats. For me to return to my chair would mean breaking them apart, so I decide to sit on the ground at Alice's feet.

We watch the movie but we are not quiet. Things to be said cannot wait and I am no exception. We comment and laugh and gasp in all the right places. When I look around for someone to make eye contact with - the way you do to affirm your reaction- I always find Edward in the dark and he is watching my responses.

Halfway through, he finds a cushion for himself and tosses me one too. It makes the hardwood floor infinitely more comfortable.

Alice plays with my hair the way I love. She loves it too, since her own hair is always too short to mess around with.

I am relaxed and happy. I want to stay in this world that feels like home forever.

But the movie comes to an end and someone turns on the light. I stretch awkwardly and blink to adjust my eyes to the light.

They talk about what to do next and I am reluctant to admit I just want to stay here and watch another movie and listen to my friends laugh.

Edward goes out to the balcony and I watch his back through the glass. He leans on the balcony and the red tip of his cigarette glows in the dark. I don't really listen to what plans the others make.

"Beach?" Rosalie asks me.

"Huh?" I reply, half-wondering if she called me a bitch.

"Bonfire on the beach tonight. Everyone's gonna be there. You up for it?" she speaks to me like I'm retarded.

"Where did you hear that?" I ask. No-one said anything in school.

"Leah. Twitter." she replies. "Yes or no?"

I hesitate again. I suppose it would be better than going home to an empty house.

"Why not?" I reply and just like that we have plans for the night.

I hope too hard that Edward will come too. I imagine his hair would look quite spectacular in the firelight.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! And for reviewing my silly story, it always makes me smile to see the same names who read everything I write. If people see mistakes, feel free to point them out. Some things always slip past my lazy self. Questions are cool too.  
And for those of you who do review, expect to see a little excerpt in your reply. _


	3. Chapter 3

_Can you stay up for the weekend? _

_If I see a light flashin'  
Could this mean that I'm comin' home?  
If I see a man waving  
Does this mean that I'm not alone?_

_-_

There is shuffle and commotion as preparations are made for our venture to the beach. I am ushered to the bathroom with the girls to fix hair and make-up. This can be a bit of a conundrum. For occasions like this, it is imperative to look like you didn't try at all but still manage to achieve some media standard of hotness. Tousled hair, subtle make-up and casual chic clothing are the teen uniform of choice.

Rose ties her hair into a messy ponytail and Alice applies more of that lip-gloss that makes her look like a pathologist's wet dream.

I pop a chewing gum into my mouth and put some Eight Hour Cream on my lips. I want to be confident and not delve into Rosalie's bulging make-up case, overflowing as usual with the stuff she sweet-talks into her possession on shoots. But there is a angry red pimple near my ear that my hair won't quite cover so I am obligated to use some concealer.

I conclude my appearance to be presentable. There isn't really much to be done when I'm wearing snowboots, leggings, my pleated school skirt and an oversized hooded sweatshirt. Why try to be something I'm not?

Back in the living area, the boys are debating what car to bring. Ah, the luxury of having a choice.

"We can all squeeze into the Jeep," offers Emmett. "As long as I get shotgun that is."

Jasper always drives, that much I have deduced. He doesn't drink so it makes the most sense.

He is shaking his head. "No way, Em. Not with me driving. I can't afford to get any more endorsements on my license."

"The Chief is outta town," argues Emmett. "It'll be fine."

Edward is back inside, observing them and twirling a single key around his index finger.

"I'll drive myself," he says. "And meet you there. Problem solved."

I swallow down a gasp. Edward is coming too? He never socialises in the same circles as I do. Ever. What could have brought this about?

Emmett begins to protest, saying something about driving alone but he sees me standing there and seems to change his mind.

"Are you girls ready?" he asks me.

"Yep," I reply, somewhat lamely.

"Lets get this show on the road then." he announces and we are ushered towards the door.

Edward is putting on his jacket and I want to watch what happens when he stretches his arms and his top rides up. But Alice pulls me by the hand and we leave. The door closes, leaving Edward behind us.

The drive to the beach is short and fun. I sit in the back with the girls and we turn up the radio loud. It's playing one of those catchy poppy hip-hop songs that you'd never to listen to alone but seems good when you're in a group and/or have consumed alcohol.

We sing along - girls on the suggestive chorus, boys mock-rapping in deep and hilarious voices. We dance in our seats, all twirling wrists and bumping elbows and bopping heads.

We must look comical to passing motorists but we're having too much fun to care. The windows are flying open and a raw breeze whips through my hair and pricks my skin. The extended zoom of other cars occasionally makes itself heard over the music but it doesn't touch us here in this metal bubble.

It's a rock song now and Jasper drives even faster. He drums the beat on the steering wheel and I see him watch Alice in the rear view mirror. Her eyes are closed and he looks entranced.

The private moment effects more than it should so I avert my gaze to the window and watch the streetlights streak by in lines of glowing light. I sing louder and off-key and Rose thrusts a water bottle in my face to use as a microphone. I tell her I prefer hairbrushes and everyone laughs.

But still I look out the window, fighting the urge to rest my head on cool glass.

Just then, the headlights of a car begin to gain on us. Closer and closer and the roar of the accelerator overpowers the radio effortlessly.

Emmett sticks his head out the window and gives the driver the middle finger. I am kind of nervous.

We are being tailgated and no-one cares. That car is practically up our ass.

Jasper turns up the music louder - guitars strum and wail and my heart thumps.

The car revs and is about two fucking inches from our bumper before it pulls back. Some kind of game.

"If the girls weren't in the back I'd brake on the fucker." Jasper announces. Alice and Rose are still singing.

As soon as the road is clear, the sound of acceleration tears past us and we are overtaken by a sliver car. It flashes its' hazard lights and Jasper slams on the horn until it speeds out of view.

"Always the fucking same," says Emmett, angry and indulgent. "He has to win even when no-one is racing."

"Who?" I ask.

He turns around to answer me. "Edward." he says.

I should be surprised but somehow I am not.

When we get to the beach, Jasper pulls in beside the shiny silver car I now know to belong to Edward. He is leaning against the door, smoking a cigarette and looking impossibly cool. He's wearing a navy coat that should be too formal for the hoody underneath but he makes it work.

"Took you long enough." he taunts as we emerge from the car. Jasper lifts Alice from the seat and I clamber down after.

"Precious cargo, my man," Jasper replies. "I don't take risks like that anymore."

"There was no risk." says Edward. "Don't worry. Some day you might catch up with me."

"Maybe we're getting too old for shit like that Edward. Leave the games in the playground or get left behind." Emmett retorts.

I don't think his words were intended to sting but they do. I see Edward flinch slightly before stubbing out his cigarette with a stomp of his foot.

I catch his eye. "Nice car." I say, figuring that might offer some comfort.

He laughs at me in a quiet way before saying thanks and following the others onto the sand.

I trudge behind them, my boots sinking into the sand. Raucous laughter and high-pitched chatter reaches my ears. A bonfire shaped like a teardrop dances against the backdrop of crashing waves. At least thirty kids revel around it. I can almost taste the hormones in the atmosphere and feel their eyes on our approach.

"Bella!" I am greeted with enthusiasm by my classmates. Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve such a chorus of warm welcomes. On good days I am friendly. On bad days I am cordial at best.

But on Friday nights we are all friends, bound by the uninhibitedness and exhilaration of the Weekend. Grudges and differences are left behind to be revisited on Monday morning. In theory at least. In all likelihood, the drama will start tonight. Skin and hair may fly. Significant others could be stolen and come Monday, those grudges will be back and bigger than ever.

I choose to be a mere observer in such debacles. It's easier, not to mention more fun, that way.

A group of insignificant boys from school greet and wave at me. They appear to be engaged in some kind of drinking game and somehow a large quantity of alcohol ends up seeping into the sand. I wave back but keep walking before I am dragged into conversation.

They have a gang of groupies at their beck and call. Lauren, Jessica, Samantha et al. In the brief time I observe them, I count seven hair flicks, three shiny pink balloons of bubble gum and two 'OMG's'.

I follow the sound of my name and join some friends on a wooden log - Emily, Angela, Claire, Leah. We are not close, nothing like the relationship I have with Alice and Rose. But we are friendly and I enjoy their company and I am honestly relieved to see them.

"What's going on?" I ask, knowing this will keep them talking for quite a while.

They fill me in on the comings and goings so far. Someone puked on Lauren's shoes and she threw a diva scale hissy fit. That someone was Conor, who is currently sleeping like a baby on the sand.

Not much else happened and conversation drifts towards tomorrows' plans. Tonight is only a filler. Saturday night is the big show.

They're going out tomorrow too. Seems like the whole town is. It's not like there's much else to do around here.

Someone passes me a bottle and I take a swig. It burns my throat and I hastily pass it along. I notice Emily decline and Leah scowls. Hmm…must investigate further.

I put my hood up to keep the wind from nipping at my ears and kind of drift off for a while. I gaze at the fire, fascinated by the way it hisses and sparks. The heat reaches my cold skin and burns like ice. It casts shadows on us all. Everyone seems darker and crueller as unnatural angles and shades bounce on skin.

I look at the merriment going on and feel…detached from it all.

Somewhere down the beach, I see Alice and Jasper writing their names in the sand. He picks her up and runs toward the water. Her shriek carries on the wind as he threatens to throw her in. I watch, green, while he spins her around instead and pulls her in for a kiss. She is off the ground and lighter than air.

Nearby, Emmett and Rose are conversing with some local boys. They are watching the intimidating duo in awe; totally engrossed in whatever tale being weaved. A roar of laughter goes up at some joke Emmett made.

Where is Edward? Not part of the group. I spot him by the ocean's edge, away from the fire near the cool spray of waves. The half-moon in the sky casts a pale sheen on his skin. Luminescent and brighter than fire-glow.

He is tossing pebbles into the sea. They skim with perfect precision along the surface of the water; light springs bouncing along. A baby frog leaping between lily pads and then diving for fish. A younger boy is with him and I can make out that Edward is showing him what to do.

"Leah?" I ask, a little fearful of her thunderous expression. "Is that your brother?"

She squints into the ocean. "Yeah. Fucking fourteen years of age and he insists on hanging out here. And I'm forced to come here and sit through the mindless babble of drunken idiots just to make sure he's okay and give him a ride home after. Selfish prick. Who's he talking to?"

"That's Edward." I tell her.

"Who?" she replies.

"Edward Cullen. You know, Emmett's brother." I say and point to Emmett and his entourage.

She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. "Never heard of 'em. I've got more on my mind than loser rich kids. But if he gives even one drop of alcohol to Seth, I'll cut his balls off and feed them to the dogs."

"Jeez, Leah. Cool it with the sensitivity and friendliness. It's making me uncomfortable." I tease her but she's already gone back to scowling.

I go back to watching Edward and the water. Seth tosses a pebble and it plops unceremoniously into the sea. Edwards' skim like dolphins on the crest of a wave.

"Don't look now Bella," Angela mutters in my ear. "Mike, Ben and Eric are on their way over here."

I grimace. "That's my cue to exit."

She grabs my hand. "No! Please stay. I need a buffer if I want to talk to Ben."

"Fine," I sigh. "But the second they start making comments about me, I'm gone."

The high school boys stand in front of us and we all offer generic greetings. They block my view of Edward. I am envious of Claire, Leah and Emily who don't know them really and can converse among themselves without seeming rude.

"The buzz is unreal tonight, isn't it Bella?" says Eric.

"I guess." I reply.

"Where were you this afternoon?" asks Mike. "We missed you in class."

No they didn't.

"I was around." I offer only as much information as necessary. "Alice and Rosalie were being a bad influence on me again. Did I miss much?"

"Nah," says Eric. "I'll give you my notes if you want though."

"Thanks." I tell him, sincerely.

I see Mike hit him on the shoulder. "You can come over to my house after school on Monday and get them. Unless you have plans with Cullen and co."

Why is that ass-wipe narrowing his eyes at me? Fishing for information again.

"No thanks, Mike." I smile sweetly. "I'll just get them off Eric in school."

At least his writing is legible.

Just then, Ben takes Angela's hand and they stroll down the beach. She offers me a smile that is both apologetic and smug. I am seething inside, I swear sometimes that her shyness is only an act.

"So…" Mike is still trying to talk to me. "You hitting the club tomorrow night?"

I nod. "I think so."

I wonder if I should try think of something to say to him or if I should stay quiet and maybe he will go away.

I end up needing neither option. Someone is running towards us. Two someones - Seth and Jacob. They are laughing exuberantly, childishly. They have gangly limbs they don't know what to do with and I am reminded of baby foals. They accidentally kick sand in all directions, including Newton's eye.

This is enough to send him packing, muttering to Eric about 'fucking freshman losers'.

Jacob is a sweet kid, two years younger than me and in possession of an unrequited crush. I am always afraid being friendly to him serves as encouragement. But when I look at his earnest brown eyes, I simply don't have it in me to be mean to him.

"Bella!" he greets me too warmly. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Hi Jake," I reply. "I didn't expect to see you here either. This crowd's a bit old for you."

He puffs up his chest. "Not really. I just came to keep Seth company but he abandoned me to man-crush on that Cullen dude."

Seth shrugs, unashamedly. "Edward's cool. And if you saw the car her drives you'd be nice to him too."

Ah, nothing like cars to win these boys affections. Heaven forbid you like someone for their personality.

Jake looks dubious but I can see him stare up at the road, furiously trying to figure out which car belongs to Edward.

"Sorry to interrupt the bromance," Leah scathingly interrupts. "But it's curfew time. I'll see you tomorrow night Bella."

"Bye Bella!" says Jake.

"Bye!" I call after him. "Tell your dad I said hi."

Everyone rides with her, so Claire and Emily say their goodbyes and shuffle off over the sand.

I am alone on the log with only an abandoned bottle of JD for company. One whiff tells me my stomach cannot handle another swig.

"Not a whiskey girl?" I hear Edward ask me and I jump. I didn't see him come over.

"Nope, " I tell him. "Vodka's more my thing."

"Me too."

I look up to face him, but he's not really beside me. Edward has sat on the log in the opposite direction - away from the crowd, his back to mine.

I spin around so my back is to the fire and we are side by side. He gives me a smile that disorientates me

"I won't offer you any then." I say, trying to recover my composure.

"Please don't." He pats his pocket. "I'm driving."

"Well then I definitely won't. Your driving is scary enough with alcohol impairing your judgement." I reply.

He does that thing where I can't tell if he's laughing with me or at me. "You find my driving scary?"

"Well being overtaken on a cliff road at breakneck speed isn't exactly a comforting experience."

"I wasn't taking risks, Bella." His voice is low and serious. "It might have seemed that way to you but there was no danger. I promise."

"Okay, I believe you," I concede. "But thousands wouldn't."

"I just want _you_ to." he says. " It's different when you're actually in the car. Come for a ride with me some time and I'll prove it."

A challenge or an invitation? An empty threat? I can't tell so I just shrug and say that we'll see.

"Is this what you ordinarily do on a Friday night?" Edward gestures behind him where the immature revelry is still in full swing.

"Not every week. Sometimes I stay in or hang out in one of the girls houses. Or go to the movies or a show. But this is just what people do, right?"

I turn my cheek to the warmth of the fire. I can just about see the reflection of the flames dance on the back of his head. I was right the way his hair looks in the firelight.

"Is it?" he presses. "It's not what I do."

_What do you do? _I want to ask him. But he is still talking and looking at me speculatively.

"Do you even enjoy it?" he asks.

I hesitate. Do I?

"It has it's moments." I tell him, vague and unsure.

Do I?

"Like what?" Edward leans closer, straining to hear my small voice over the din of drunk boys.

"Like this." I tell him and exhale.

He leans closer, eyes searching mine. That dirty ash smell burns my nose and I watch his full lips to see his answer. The silence seems endless.

"Bella…" he mutters.

Waves crash. I wait.

"RUN!"

I hear this shouted behind me. A scream goes up among the general populace and at the same time sirens wail.

I spin around to see the crowd disperse wildly like waves on the shore. In the distance, blue and red lights flash. Cops. The party's over.

We didn't see them coming. We didn't hear the warning.

I jump to my feet and Edward grabs my elbow to urge me along.

" Bella! Come on to fuck." he swears.

Note: Edward is vulgar when stressed.

"They won't arrest anybody," I grumble. "They wouldn't have turned on the sirens. All they want to do is clear us out."

My boots are sinking into the sand as he tows me along. Despite the discomfort, it still feels nice to have his strong hand on me. I struggle; smoky air is hard to breathe and physical exertion has never been my strong suit.

"I'm not waiting around to find out." Is his reply.

Edward's phone rings, buzzing and singing that song I love. He lets go of me to look for it.

"Yeah?" he answers. "I've got her…go on…we'll call you."

I stumble on a rock. Fall and tear my leggings. Skin my knees.

He turns around and helps me to my feet. He looks angry with the rock. Flashlights roam across the beach.

I'm breathing hard and covered in dirty sand that a dog could have pissed on.I'm slow and I'm limping but we're nearly at the edge of the sand.

Edward makes a smooth leap over the faded wooden fence and then he helps me climb it. His is the last car left on the path.

He opens the central locking and has the engine started before I even climb in. Music comes on loud and blaring. The tyres squeal as we speed away.

By the time we get around the first bend we are both laughing, giddy with relief and high on adrenaline and life.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Reviews are awesome and if you do so, you get an excerpt of a different perspective in your reply.  
_


	4. Chapter 4

_Lay where you're laying, Don't make a sound  
__I know they're watching, they're watching  
__All the commotion, the kiddie like play  
Has people talking, talking_

_-  
_

Edward's laugh is deep and playful. I want to make a recording that I can play every time I feel blue. Instead, I just laugh along with him and hope I don't snort.

He fiddles with controls. Heat comes on and the music gets turned down. Pity. I really like that song.

"That was eventful." he comments dryly.

"Sure was," I reply. Did I just sound like something out of _Annie?_

"Are you disappointed the soiree had to end prematurely?" Edward continues.

I raise my eyebrows. "Seriously? I think I'll survive the crippling loss I feel at missing Newton hurl his guts up."

"I take it that's a regular occurrence."

"Every damn time the boy puts a drink to his lips. I swear he's got the constitution of a baby deer." I say.

It's great to hear Edward laugh again. To cause it.

"In that case, I think I'll call the cops myself next time." he answers.

Next time? He's planning on coming out with us again. I want to squeal but instead I take a moment to bask in the fact that I am alone in a car with Edward Cullen.

I watch the muscles in his thigh flex when he presses the accelerator. I observe the lazy way his hands rest on the steering wheel and the smooth way he shifts gears.

"Are you okay?" he asks me then, concerned eyes down on me.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Why?" I reply.

He nods towards my legs and I remember my fall on the beach. Now that he's brought it up, I begin to feel the sting quite prominently. The trickle of sticky blood and gritty sand itches my skin. I brush my dirty hands off on my skirt and realise I'm messing up his pristine car.

"Oh." I try to dismiss it. "That's nothing. Just a scratch."

"It looks deep. It could need stitches." he persists.

"Honestly, it's fine." I tell him. "I've had worse."

"Do you fall down a lot?"

I decide to be honest. "Depends on your definition of a lot. When I was a kid, my mom brought me to doctors because I was so clumsy. I've been in the emergency room so much that your father called Charlie to see was there something I wasn't telling him."

He chuckles. "My dad _really _did that? So much for doctor-patient confidentiality."

"I'm sure he had my best interests at heart. I think he was just skeptical when I told him my injuries weren't alcohol induced." I say.

"A rarity around these parts," Edward replies. "So are you sure you're feeling alright? Not light-headed or dizzy or anything?"

"I'm fine."

"Good," He smirks. "Now remember what we talked about on the beach?"

Before I can answer he shifts the car into sixth gear, floors the accelerator and the speedometer flies over the one hundred mark.

I should be scared, I am a cop's daughter after all. I should be gripping my seat and screaming at Edward to slow down.

But I am rather enjoying the way my heart is pounding and the buzz of excitement rushing through my veins. The engine is so quiet and the car is so solid, I barely feel the risk factor. Scenery whips by and Edward is glancing at me out of the side of his eye.

"Scared?" he asks.

"Not in the slightest." I respond and turn up the radio.

His reply is another chuckle. I rest my head on the heated leather seat and let the world pass me by. This is the sense of freedom I was thinking about. The sheer exhilaration I am experiencing is just what I need on a Friday night. Reckless and liberating and removed from the humdrum.

But the roads can be unpredictable. My stomach lurches over steep ups and downs. I shriek when I am lifted off the seat as we go over a large pothole. My head thwacks off the roof and both Edward and I let out a loud 'Fuck' at the same time. Wincing in pain, I rub my injured head.

"What are you swearing for?" I gripe.

The car slows. He's looking at me with concern but also anger.

"These damn potholes are ruining my car. And your head apparently. You weren't kidding about being accident prone were you?"

"_That_ was not my fault." I swipe back. "You're the one doing a Schumacher impression on bad roads."

"Sorry that you got hurt." He sounds genuine.

"S'okay," I reply. "I was enjoying myself up to that."

"Not scared anymore?" he asks again.

"I never was." I am definite. I feel safe with him. But when his hand goes to the gear shift again, I bat it away.

"Message received." he jokes. "I'll keep the speed in check for now."

I laugh at his earnest expression and he joins in. We are interrupted by the sound of my phone. _They call me quiet girl. But I'm a riot. That's not my name. _Story of my life. I pull it out of my boot and the screen tells me Alice is calling.

"Hello?" I answer, still breathless and cheery.

"Bella? I've been trying to call you and Edward. Did you get away alright? Where are you now?" she demands.

"Oh…I must not have heard the cell over the radio. We're fine. Just outside of town."

"Already?" she queries. "Is he driving too fast? Tell him that if he scares you, Jasper will kill him."

"You can call off Jasper," Edward shouts at her. "Bella is begging me to go faster."

"Shut up!" I tell him. I reach across to clamp my hand over his mouth and he jokingly snaps his teeth at me. I poke him in the ribs instead.

"Quit it, Bella. I'm driving." he whines.

"I though you were an expert." I shoot back.

"Bella?" I recognize Alice's indignant tone. "Are you there?"

"Sorry," I answer. "What are you guys up to?"

"Jazz is bringing me home. We're dropping Rose and Emmett off at a party in Peter's house first if you're interested."

"Who's Peter?" I ask.

"Jasper's friend from college." Edward says in my other ear. "Do you want to go?"

I think about it for all of two seconds.

"No. I think I'll just head home."

"Make sure Edward drops you to your door. I'll call you in the morning." Alice says, with implication in her tone.

"Okay. Talk to you later." I say and hang up.

"Do you mind dropping me home?" I ask Edward.

He shakes his head. "Of course not."

"Take the next right -" I begin.

His indicator is already on. "I know where you live Bella."

"How?" I ask, bewildered.

He rolls his eyes at me. "Everyone knows where the Chief of Police lives. Haven't you noticed that yours is the only house that doesn't get TP'd on Halloween?"

I try to mask my embarrassment. "You don't seem the vandalism type."

"Don't I?" He flashes me a wicked smile. "Maybe I'm just an anarchist."

Anarchy always seemed like fun to me. But too messy. Too dangerous. I'd rather read about revolutions than be in one. But the idea of Edward getting passionate about a cause is indeed attractive…

The car comes to a smooth stop outside my house. The ride was much quicker than I anticipated and I am a little regretful of that fact.

"Here we are." Edward declares.

I hope he will cut the engine in a subtle indication he wants to prolong our interaction. He does not.

"Are you going out tomorrow night?" he asks out of the blue.

"Yeah," I answer distractedly. "We're going to the club."

Where are my keys? I pat my pockets and hear no jingle.

"Oh," Edward replies. "I'll probably see you there."

I am panicking. Where the hell are my keys?

"Shit!" I realise where they are. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

Edward looks at me like I've sprouted an extra head and a third boob.

"What's wrong?" he asks me.

"Keys," I groan. "I don't have my house key."

"Do you have a spare?"

I shake my head dejectedly.

"Can you call your father?"

"He's out of town." I explain. "He's not due back until Sunday evening.

I always knew all that fishing would cause a problem eventually.

"Did you lose it? We can go back to the beach and look." Edward says.

I fit the pieces together to inform him where I left it.

"My locker. I didn't plan on ditching class and I left my stuff in school," I sigh and take out my phone. "I'll call one of the girls and see if I can stay with them."

As I speak and fumble with the stupidly teeny buttons on my phone, embarrassment floods my body. I feel silly and awkward and the cause of a tremendously unnecessary fuss.

"Who are you calling?" asks Edward.

"Alice. I don't want to bug Rose if she's still at the party." I hit call and only hear her chirpy voicemail. "It's off."

"Rose is going to stay with Emmett tonight. Is there anyone else you want to try?" he asks gently.

I think. Angela won't turn me away. Her dad raised her to be charitable. Neither will the Blacks, our families are friends after all. Or I could just turn up at the Brandon's house.

Edward seems to sense my hesitation. Without saying a single word he pulls a U-turn and swings the car around. Tyres screech and we are speeding away from my house.

I look at him questioningly.

"You're staying with us at Emmett's tonight." he states.

I begin to protest but he cuts me off. "No buts. I'm not leaving you stranded."

Objections die on my lips when I realise I really don't have another palatable option. Rose will be there so it shouldn't be so bad. And it should amount to a chance to unravel the Edward mystery a little further.

"Okay," I give him a resigned smile. "Thanks."

He shakes his head at me. "No big deal."

It is to me.

I text both Rose and Alice to explain the situation. It makes me feel less desperate though that silly feeling won't leave me alone yet. The kind of silly where I feel foolish has wiped out the kind of silly where I feel carefree.

I stifle a yawn and read Rosalie's suggestive reply. If only Rose, I want to reply, if only.

However my actual reply is laden with snark and misplaced frustration at my stranded situation. Hello, I'm practically fucking homeless and Rose tells me where Emmett keeps his condoms.

I snap my phone shut. Dramatic hang-ups are the number one benefit of having an ancient flip up phone. Pressing the clear key just doesn't give the same satisfaction.

"Everything alright?" asks Edward.

"Fine," I mutter, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my palms. "Just my so-called friends being unhelpful."

"Good thing I'm here then." He smiles.

Smug bastard. God, I'm really tired now. My knees is stinging like hell and my hands are filthy. I want my own bed and to be away from Edward who makes me uncomfortable and gives me that flippy-over feeling in my stomach.

Edward parks the car and I move to get out. He is leaning expectantly at the door and giving me a strange look.

"What?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I would have helped you."

I roll my eyes and pull the car-door closed behind me. "I don't need any help." I say.

He doesn't look convinced.

Straightening my knee makes me yelp. The sting turns to a burn and each step is agony. I curse my clumsiness - stupid genes, stupid Charlie, stupid Edward making me needlessly run from cops. Stupid Bella for doing whatever he tells me.

He's looking at me hesitantly. His arm is slightly outstretched.

I'm done with standing around feeling humiliated and I limp past into the complex.

For the life of me, I can't think of anything to say.

The elevator is about two square feet. The journey to the top floor takes hours. The temperature in the metal box is hellish.

Edward stands at the complete opposite side of the elevator, shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet. I look at him and his eyes are closed. He must be tired too.

We both jump when the ping rings out and I follow him down the carpeted hallway and into the apartment.

It's dark and still in here and again, I blindly follow Edward into the kitchen area. I stand awkwardly by the counter while he flips on the light and begins rifling through presses.

He's got a white box with a green cross on the lid in his hands. First Aid box, Lord knows I've seen enough of them in my time.

"Let's take a look at those scratches." he announces.

I do nothing.

"You sound just like your dad." I tell him.

He gives me a doubtful smile and pats the kitchen counter.

"I can do it myself." I insist.

He crosses his arms and waits, staring unnervingly through hooded eyelids. Who can resist that?

I hop up on the counter and he pulls over a chair. The muscles in my leg twitch and his head is directly level with, uh, my skirt.

With a gentle touch, Edward begins to clean my scraped knees. When I flinch and suck my breath in through my teeth, he grips the back of my knee to hold me still. His hand is warm and feels nice there. His head is bent, his breathing steady. I'm kind of trembling.

"Bella?" he says without looking at me.

"Yeah?"

"Um…the graze is bigger than I thought. You're going to have to take off your leggings."

He still doesn't look at me. He doesn't move enough for me to jump down either.

I kick off my boots and raise my hips up off the counter to gracelessly pull them down to my thighs. My sweaty palms stick to the clammy skin there.

I don't get to go any further before Edward takes over. His hands brush mine away. I feel his knuckles on my bare skin. He pulls the torn leggings off in one fluid motion, pausing slightly at my ankle before tossing them to the floor. He sets my foot on his knee. My bare foot rests on rough denim and I feel the strong muscle of his thighs twitch under my toes.

Edward grins impishly and returns to the business of cleaning me up.

Isn't there an artery behind your knee? I wonder if he can feel mine throbbing as my heart pounds.

I'm not used to this kind of intimacy. I don't know what to do. No-one ever looks after me like this and I am at a loss for words.

I watch him work, He cleans and bandages both my knees swiftly and precisely. His fingertips are rough and calloused but his touch his soft. My brain is forming all sorts of fantasies.

"Do you want to be a doctor some day?" I ask in order to break the deafening silence.

"Perhaps."

Perhaps he should work on his bedside manner.

"I just thought…'cos of your dad…and you're so good at biology…" I try explain, try keep the conversation going.

"I'm good at most things." Edward replies.

Including being infuriating.

"So you don't want to be a doctor?"

He pauses before replying. "I want to be happy. I don't know that medicine is the thing to do that."

Before I can respond, Edward pushes his chair back and stands up. "All done." he tells me and I scramble down from the counter.

"Thanks." I tell him.

"Anytime, I guess it's good practice for the future."

I wonder if he's making fun of me.

"I mean thanks for everything. For looking after me and taking me home and not making the situation worse than it is." I say.

"The situation is bad?" he questions.

"Well it's hardly ideal."

He takes a step backwards. "No. I suppose not. I'm going to make something to eat. You should get cleaned up. The bathroom in my room in the cleanest. It's the third door on the left. I'll find some clothes for you and leave them on the bed."

"Okay. Thanks."

Why do I feel like I've been dismissed?

Still, I do as I am told. In the small but clean en-suite, I wash my face and hands peel of my crumpled uniform. I fold it - the shirt, the tie, the pleated skirt- and when I set it away for the nest two days I know that the weekend has really begun. I brush my fingers through my hair and stifle a yawn in the mirror. I look a state. I feel a mess.

I peek out the door and find a neatly folded pile of clothes on the floor. They are too big and not mine but they'll do. I dress and shuffle barefoot out to the living area. The carpet is soft in between my toes.

It's still dark; the tv is on the only source of light and it is a dim flickering that makes my tired eyes ache. Edward is on the balcony smoking. I perch on the edge of the leather sofa and note the plates of sandwiches on the table and the pillow and blanket folded at one end.

I haven't eaten since lunchtime really so I take a sandwich and begin to nibble. Yum.

A blast of cool air hits me as the balcony door open and in comes Edward. Yum again.

He looks at me for a moment with the oddest expression on his face, confirming my suspicions that I look a mess.

"I found some painkillers," he tells me, pointing to a glass of water and two white pills on the coffee table. "Emmett got them that time he hurt his knee so they are probably kinda strong…"

I have them gulped back before he's finished talking and he gives me another one of those odd looks. Boy must think I'm a nut job.

"Never mind." he says and picks up a sandwich. I am acutely aware of the sound of chewing and swallowing.

"Thanks for making the food," I tell him. "And for making up the bed for me."

He exhales very slowly. "You don't have to be thankful for every little thing someone does for you Bella. "

I don't really know what to say to that. It's not the first time I've heard that I'm a prime example of being overly grateful.

"You're welcome would be a sufficient answer."

"You're welcome." he replies stiffly. "But what did you mean about the bed? It was already made."

I gesture towards the pillows behind him. "How was that already made?"

"That's for me Bella. You can sleep in the spare room."

The room he had already referred to as his.

"No way. I'm not kicking you outta your room. The couch will do me fine." I say.

I really don't want to be any more of an imposition.

"I'm not arguing over this. You're not sleeping on the couch and that's final." he states.

I can feel my face grow heated. I imagine it glows like red hot coal. I don't see myself ever being able to win an argument with Edward though I might have some chance of I keep looking at the floor.

"I'm so tired now I'll crash anywhere. And I'm betting those pills will help. So the couch will do me fine and I'm not arguing anymore either."

I fold my arms petulantly just for good measure.

More awkward silence during which I check my phone repeatedly for a reply from Alice.

"Do you think Alice and Jasper are okay?" I ask.

"I think they're more than okay." Edward answers.

"But I still haven't heard from her since we left the beach and it shouldn't take that long for him to drop her off."

He gives me a look that seems to question my intelligence.

"No. It shouldn't take long to drop Alice off in time for curfew." he says, "What takes time is parking the car behind the stable, avoiding the security system, climbing a trellis, sneaking into Alice's bedroom and staying there for as long as possible."

"Right. Of course." I blink and try to act nonchalant. Try to pretend I know what the hell Edward's talking to about. Try to ignore the twinge of sadness that comes with the fact Alice has been keeping secrets from me.

Edward makes no reply. He passes me the bag of potato chips and I take a handful.

He steadily flicks through the channels - pausing, looking at me for a reaction then moving on.

Then out of the blue he asks, "Are your bandages too tight?"

"No," I reply, setting my plate back on the table with a thud. "Just feels a little stiff. Guess I won't be spending any time on my knees this weekend."

Ground please swallow me up. Why do I allow such trite to spew from my mouth?

Frozen, I look for Edward's reaction. It is one of complete and utter amusement.

"Is that how you usually pass the time?" He smirks.

"That came out wrong." I say.

He leans closer, draping his arm across the back of the couch. "How did you mean it?"

"Obviously I was referring to church." Sincerity oozes from my voice. "What else could I mean but prayer?"

Edward throws back his head and laughs heartily. I join in and just like that, the tension is broken.

"Obviously." he echoes.

We laugh again and I feel lighter than air.

"Here." Edward pats the cushion on his knee. "Put your feet up, You'll be more comfortable."

"I'm fine -" I am cut off when Edward gently grabs my ankles and manoeuvres me so that I am lying on the couch with my feet on his lap. I grudgingly admit that this is more comfortable.

Edward smiles at me, then flicks the channel. I nod this time and with a blanket thrown over us, we settle down to watch the sitcom.

This is definitely comfortable. A new kind of easy that soothes and confuses me. How is it that we can go from tension so thick you would need a chainsaw to cut through it to this amiable relaxation.

Is it weird to be so comfortable around a virtual stranger? Is it unnatural that my mind and body react to him in ways I can't control? Is it sick that regardless of his reasoning, I know in my heart that I will keep putting myself in the position to be close to him and I don't give a flying fuck how I fare out?

I begin to think there is a difference between discomfort and tension anyway. Whenever I have to get a shot I feel physically sick as I lie and wait on the plastic bed. My stomach churns with uncomfortable dread and I am stiff and irritable and anxious about the needle.

But when I lay on the bed in the piecing place I felt completely different. Sure I was tense as hell and squeezing Rose's hand way too tight. My heart pounded and my palms were sweaty. But I was full of anticipation and nervous excitement - an altogether different sensation than the vaccination fear.

I wonder was it possible to confuse the two feelings.

Then logical thought ceases when I feel fingers brush against my ankle. Once could be accidental. Twice must be deliberate. My foot twitches involuntarily at the unfamiliar closeness. My toes curl and my breath hitches when Edward slips his index finger under my woven bracelet and circles the circumference of my ankle.

"This is nice." Edward murmurs, his eyes on the hand still tracing my skin. For a second I think he means just lying like this but then I realise he means the bracelet.

I stop myself from saying thanks again. I watch him finger the tan leather strip and the blue and green beads that flash like jewels.

"Do you always wear it?"

I give him a shaky nod of confirmation. "My mom sent it to me," I tell him. "She got it in Tijuana or Taiwan or somewhere. It's hard to keep up with her travels."

"I've got some jewellery belonging to my birth parents," he says quietly. "Does it remind you of her?"

I chew the inside of my cheek for a moment before responding. "Not really. It kind of reminds me to be like her. She's carefree and optimistic and confident. I'm more like Charlie than my mom."

"So you wear it for yourself rather than for her." he observes.

"I suppose so. It's something personal. A secret almost. Doesn't everyone have something like that? To have something or do something just for themselves. Like how I got my bellybutton pierced."

The hand circling my ankle stills immediately. His eyes shine intense on my face and I'm a little breathless.

"You have a piercing?" Edward says slowly as if he is reconciling the idea in his brain.

My hand automatically goes to my stomach. "Yeah. I do. Alice and Rose talked me into it that time we went away last summer. They both got tattoos but I was chicken so I got this instead. I know it's a little pre-crazy Britney but it's not like I ever wear a belly top or anything…"

I trail off and don't know why I am trying to justify myself to him. No-one bar Rose and Alice even know about my pathetic rebellion. I'd hate to be the cause of Charlies' death if he got wind of it.

"Can I see it?" Edward gulps.

My hands feel heavy as I inch my too-big shirt up my torso to show him the plain silver bar glinting in my naval.

I hear him exhale. His hand jerks forward and then he pulls it back.

"Can I touch it?" His voice is barely a whisper.

I nod my consent. No more than two inches of my waist are exposed but somehow I feel naked under his gaze.

His ring finger lightly explores the piercing for several seconds - not a prod but a caress. Goosepimples erupt and tingles travel all over my body. Dark lashes cast shadows on his cheeks as his downward eyes concentrate on the task at hand.

A tiny eternity passes, then Edward covers me again and goes back to his original position

"Er…thanks." he says awkwardly.

I laugh and he joins in though I can tell he doesn't really get the joke.

"You're welcome." I reply.

We go back to watching the dated sitcom and content breathing and the annoying laugh track are the only audible sounds. This turns out to be an unorthodox lullaby that soon has me drifting off to sleep.

I wake again some time later to find myself being dropped on a bed with Edward looming over me. My eyelids might as well be glued shut and my mouth is dry and thick with sleep. The room is busy with inactivity.

"What the fuck?" I ask, voice muffled and croaky.

Moonlight shines through slats in the wooden blinds and the faint glow is sufficient to see Edward's sheepish expression.

I sit up in the bed and wait for an explanation.

"I told you I wasn't going to let you sleep on the couch." he says casually.

"And I told you I wasn't going to make you give up your bed."

He just shrugs in a way that is both endearing and exasperating. I draw my knees up around my chest. I will myself to wish that I had just gone back to school earlier and none of this keyless drama would have happened. Despite my best efforts I can't bring myself to regret any of this, as much as I would like to.

Muffled voices drift in from somewhere else in the apartment. I gather Rose and Emmett have returned. Why can't it be like when we were younger, when Alice, Rosalie and I would squash into a bed together and boys didn't even come into the equation?

I'm not trying to listen but I can't help but hear the giggles, the hushed voices and the squeal that comes from the occupants of the rest of the apartment. Can I really send poor Edward back out to that?

The darkness has confused my sense of space. I reach out to stop Edward walking away and grasp blindly.

I intend to find his hand. My sleep addled body directs my hand in another direction. I find the waistband of his pants. Hmm…he must have changed. Edward was wearing jeans before. Now my hand easily slips past the gathered fabric which is clenched between my fingers. My knuckle collides with his hipbone where the skin is surprisingly soft.

"Wait," I say, not letting go. "You don't have to leave."

I feel a swallow go through his body and a tired boldness makes me pull him toward me. And he proceeds to crash into the bedside locker and send a lamp and several books hurtling to the floor. He lets out a surprised groan and for a moment we are stock still and the voices in the other room become completely muted. Then laughter roars from outside the door and infects its way into ourselves until we are laughing too.

I thank the heavens Edward has tied the drawstring on his trousers or else the situation would be vastly more awkward.

"Bella?" he says. "You can take your hand out of my pants now."

Right. My hand feels cold as I wrench it away. My voice is still fairly groggy.

"Er…I just meant that…um…well this is a big bed and you can sleep here too if you want."

I can't see Edward. He is busy hastily tidying the mess we created.

"I don't want to impose." he replies.

"D'ya really want to go back out there?" I ask, stifling a yawn.

"I suppose not." He sighs. "Are you sure?"

"I just want to go back to sleep."

I lie back and fix the covers around my chin. Edward quietly walks to the far side of the bed and gets in. I cling to the edge of the bed desperate to keep as much space between us without hitting the floor.

I gather Edward is doing the same because he almost yanks the quilt right off me.

"Sorry," he says when I yelp. "I'm not used to sharing."

"Don't worry about it." I reply and turn to face him. His eyes are closed and his breathing is too steady.

"Sweet dreams, Bella." he murmurs.

Right back atcha.

"Goodnight Edward."

I close my eyes and try to relax. There are several silent moments.

"Bella?" he whispers.

"Yeah?"

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah," I reply. "Are you?"

I feel his slight nod on the pillow.

"Yes. Very." he whispers again.

I wonder why that is, until I fall asleep.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Hope you all liked it! thanks again to everyone who has been reviewing! I'm not sure yet if there'll be an alternate pov excerpt for this chapter. If not I'll send out a teaser instead over the next couple days. _


	5. Chapter 5

_You are young and so am I  
__This is wrong but who am I to judge…  
We won't be seventeen forever but we can get away with this tonight_

_-_

When I wake, I am stretched in the middle of the bed with my arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish. I force open one sleep encrusted eye only to be blinded by daylight and immediately close it again. I am not a morning person.

However my position and brief glance around tell me I am alone in the bed. While I am fairly glad to not have to endure the slight humiliation that would come with waking up with Edward - bedhead and morning breath are never attractive - I can't help but miss him and this niggling sensation worries me slightly.

If only he wasn't so damn fascinating.

I turn over on my side and burrow back under the covers. This big-ass bed is triple the size of mine. Hell, you could comfortably hold an orgy here and not mess up the artfully arranged medley of shiny cushions at the foot of the bed.

I flip the pillow over to the cool side and attempt to fall back asleep. I'm not ready to face the day yet.

A presence makes itself known. A fire-breathing dragon looms over me sucking all sense of relaxation from the room.

"Bella Swan. I know you are awake and if you don't stop ignoring me so you can sniff yours and Edward's sex sheets or whatever the hell it is you're doing I am going to call your father and tell him where you spent the night."

"Go away Rosalie," I hiss. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Not anymore princess." Rosalie yanks the soft covers off me in one violently smooth motion. I whimper and put the pillow over my head.

"Hmm," I hear her observe. "Fully clothed. Then why is our Edward whistling and cooking breakfast out there?"

I choose to see that as a rhetorical question.

"Alright," I groan. "I'm awake. What do you want?"

"What do _I _want? Bella you're such an ungrateful friend. I'm here to help you."

I shoot up in the bed.

"Ungrateful?" I splutter. "Ungrateful? I was abandoned last night. I had nowhere to sleep and where was your help then?"

Rosalie only laughs - a surprisingly gentle cackle that never fails to make me smile.

"I knew that would get you up," she says. "Really Bella, you are too easy sometimes. And I love you but I am not your babysitter. I invited you to the party. I spoke to Alice. I responded to your text _and _I was about to check on you last night until I realised it might not be the best idea what with all the strange noises coming from here."

"There were no strange noises," I protest.

She gives me a look and sits on the edge of the bed, pushing some hair out of my face.

"What is the deal with you and Edward?" she asks.

"There's no deal."

"Coulda fooled me. I know you're private about this kind of thing. Edward is too. But you guys slept in the same bed together. There has to be something there." Rosalie insists.

I sigh. "There really isn't. Don't get me wrong, there's definitely something swoon-worthy about him but I dunno, he just gives off this unattainable vibe. I doubt he's interested in _anyone, _let alone me."

I flop back down on the pillow. If I concentrate really hard I can still detect the cigarettes and musk smell of him.

"If that's what you believe…" Rosalie says with a slight shake of her head. "So I gotta go to the shoot for the Easter catalogue. I just came in to give you some clothes to do you until you get into your house. I figured you didn't want to wear your uniform on a Saturday."

My mood perks up dramatically.

"Thank you!" That comes out as the nearest thing to a squeal I will ever intentionally emit. "I could kiss you right now."

"Please don't," Rose grimaces. "My skin is already red from Emmett's ridiculous stubble. I don't need any more irritation."

"The make-up girl is gonna kill you." I grin.

"It was worth it." Her tone is somewhere between saucy and dreamy. "I have to go before I'm even later."

"You didn't get to tell me about the party." I say.

"Tonight," she promises. "We'll catch up before we all go out."

We say our goodbyes and Rosalie leaves, shutting the door behind her. I stretch and get out of bed. I go to the bathroom to pee, wash myself as best I can and rub some toothpaste on my teeth. I would sacrifice my first born for my electric toothbrush.

Rosalie's figure is completely different to mine but we are both slim and so, her clothes will just about fit me. Her shoes are a no though, her foot is at least three sizes bigger than mine. I don't pause to think about how such a collection of clothes has built up here in such a short time.

I find a denim skirt and pull it on. Rose is curvier than me so it hangs low on my hips and makes it a reasonably decent length. I find a pair of thick brown tights that cover my bandages, a white wife beater that doesn't quite go with my black bra but no-one is going to see it anyway. My trusty hoodie completes the look and I am good to go.

I glance at my neatly folded uniform and bury it under the rest of Rosalie's clothes until Monday.

Self consciously, I potter out to the kitchen in my stockinged feet. I catch the mouth-watering aroma of bacon and eggs which makes my legs move quicker. This, in turn, makes me almost slip on the tiled floor.

Almost. A pair of strong arms catch me and help me regain my balance.

"Take it easy there Bella," Jasper drawls while letting me go. "Edward made plenty for everyone."

I follow him into the empty kitchen where he sets a plate in front of me. Yum. I dig in and it is delicious. I take a big gulp of juice. Holy crap, is that freshly squeezed? What kind of teenage boys are these?

"This is really good." I declare between mouthfuls.

"Our Edward's a man of many talents." answers Jasper. He is leaning against the counter and sipping on coffee. It's weird - even though I hardly know him I don't feel awkward being alone with Jasper.

"Are you seeing Alice today?" I ask him. "Or will she be stuck at Cynthia's recital all day?"

"I reckon it's the recital. Poor Ali, I wouldn't relish the thought of watching precocious kids dance all day."

"It's actually quite hilarious," I tell him. "If you've ever seen _Little Miss Sunshine_ you can picture what it's like. And Mrs. Brandon is a real life Regina George's Mom. She does the dances in the aisles and everything. I swear if my childhood ballet shows were anything like it I wouldn't have quit after one."

"_You_ took ballet?" Jasper smirks. "Alice did invite me to go with them but I think her parents would have ran me outta there with a shotgun."

"They're far too waspish for that. Passive aggression is more their forte. She actually called me working class one time. Like any of that shit matters." I tell him.

"Honey, that must make me trailer trash then." His expression fades from joking to serious. "I know they only want what's best for Ali and I get that. I do. And I know you and Rose must think I'm not good enough for her - "

I don't think that at all. Prejudice is not my style. I try tell Jasper but he won't let me interrupt.

"I know I've made mistakes and done stupid shit but I'll never do anything to hurt her. Ever." he finishes.

There's a raw sincerity in his voice that makes me ache.

"I believe you." I tell him just as Edward saunters into the kitchen looking more attractive than any normal person has the right to. Jasper throws me a grateful smile and I don't think we'll ever speak of this again.

"Morning Bella." Edward says. "Did you sleep well?"

"Not really," I say with a sigh. "Someone kept me awake all night snoring."

For a split second Edward looks mildly offended. Then his lips break into a wide kissable grin when he gets that I am joking.

"Thanks for breakfast," I tell him. "It was sooo good."

"Breakfast foods are the only thing I can cook," He brushes off the praise. "If we don't feed Emmett before he goes coaching he will scar the junior football league for life."

Something else I didn't know.

"Did you sort anything out about getting into your house?" Jasper asks me.

I shake my head. "I guess I'm going to have to call out a locksmith. I've no way of getting in touch with my dad and I can't get my own keys. That's my drinking money wiped out."

"Don't give up yet, Bella." Edward says almost mysteriously. "Your keys are in your locker. They're not gone forever."

Yeah but it's not like I can live like a nomad until I get them back.

"They're in school?" Jasper seems incredulous. "Well I think we can handle that."

He and Edward share a look above my head - one the drips with trouble and mischief.

"Don't you have a meeting though?" Edward reminds him.

"Damnit," Jasper exclaims, looking at the clock. "I better go. You'll have to handle this one solo."

He grabs his leather jacket and is gone out the door before I know it, leaving Edward and me alone. Again.

"What are you on about?" I ask suspiciously. Edward ignores me and clears away my plate.

"Done?" he asks, _after _he has thrown the food away.

"Yes."

"Get your coat."

"I don't have a coat." I reply testily.

"Come on then." Edward states.

"Not until you tell me where."

"We're going to get your keys." he informs me. "Now I don't have a problem with you being my cell mate for the weekend but something tells me you'd be more at ease in your own bed. I'm doing you a favour here Bella."

By the time he's finished talking, Edward is at the front door with an impatient expression on his face. Abashed, I follow him.

Why can't I ever say no to him?

The car ride is silent but for the drone of the radio. Edward is listening to the financial news and I really want to ask him to switch over but I'm not really brave enough. Listening to talk of recession and economic downturn is not my idea of Saturday listening. All doom and gloom. I think of Alice and the time she chirped that, _the only D and G I'm interested in is Dolce and Gabanna. _My world isn't quite that insulated but I get where she is coming from. I can be serious again on Monday.

I occupy my mind with Jasper's little declaration at breakfast. Still waters apparently run deep. I see that he was sincere but I can't help but worry about my Alice sometimes. I think I know better than anyone how vulnerable she really is. She's all caught up in the wonder of her relationship with Jasper and is choosing not to see the reality of it all.

Jasper has a bit of a reputation around here and not many people have anything good to say about him. He used to go to my school, though he turned up about as frequently as Edward does. There were all those rumours about him - drink, drugs, brushes with the law, girls. He was even in a pretty nasty motorcycle crash last year and seems to have quietened considerably since.

"You look pensive," Edward comments. "Care to share?"

"Not really." I tell him and try to stop myself spilling my guts again.

"Are you thinking about Jasper?"

"What makes you say that?" I ask, flushed and defensive.

"You two seemed deep in conversation before I came into the kitchen," he replies.

"We were just talking about Alice." I say.

Edward takes a deep breath before he replies, "Jasper's a decent guy. He won't hurt your little friend if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not worried," I say with an unconvincing sigh. "Where did he have to go?"

"His meeting."

That means nothing to me and the expression on my face is proof of that.

"AA meeting," Edward clarifies.

"Right," I say. What other possible answer is there anyway? We drive by the school, around the corner and he parks the car in a secluded spot. We cut through the back gate, across the muddy football field and I follow him without a second thought. I tell myself that people hang out here all the time at weekends. It's not really trespass. We're just making up the time we missed yesterday.

Edward doesn't seem the slightest bit nervous. I wish I could be that cool and calm. My heart is pounding and I feel all edgy and even a little bit excited. I resist the urge to creep where the roof casts dark silhouettes onto the grass and the theme from _The Pink Panther _toots in my brain.

He stops abruptly and ducks into a doorway at the back of the building and I go in too. It's a cave, a shelter; somewhere to hide. A minuscule concrete rectangle with graffiti scrawled, neon bright on grey, a caged fly-encrusted light that doesn't work and cigarette butts piled on the ground.

"What?" I hiss after him, panicked and hyper in the tiny space. "Is someone around?"

His face is light and shadows as he shakes his head.

"This is the way in," he tells me.

There is a thick solid door at the darkest part of the little area. No handle, no lock, no visible mode of entry. I look around for a gap or a window or something and see nothing. I just see walls closing in and think about how, yet again, Edward and I are together in a confined space.

"How?" I ask.

"Through the door," he replies with a tone ordinarily reserved for small children or the feeble minded.

"But how?"

"Trust me, Bella."

That's the second time he has said that to me in as many days. And when he has done so, this earnest warmth floods his eyes and I can't help but think that maybe he really means it. Maybe he means more than the situation at hand.

"Fine," I agree, all breathy and spluttering. "How do you know about this place?"

I mean to say that by way of distraction. Just to keep up some semblance of normal conversation. But the second the words leave my mouth, my brain kicks into overdrive. This seems just the place for illicit teenage trysts that don't involve me…

"A magician never reveals his secrets," he replies with a strange flourish of his wrist. He reaches up and grips the square iron hinge with his fingertips. I raise my eyebrows dubiously, cross my arms and wait.

Nothing happens.

"Okay," he huffs. "Jasper showed me how to do this and evidently it is a two person job." He flashes me another wicked smile. "How about you be my partner in crime and help me out?"

"My father would be so ashamed," I mutter, mostly to myself.

"What the Chief doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Well, let's hope Jasper thought you well because I don't want to get caught breaking and entering and have Charlie come to his place of work to bail me out."

"Technically we're not breaking anything. We're merely two students taking advantage of the inferior security system in order to retrieve some possessions," Edward replies casually. "So are you going to help me or not?

"What do I need to do?" I ask. There's no way in hell I'm tall enough to reach the hinge that seems to be the fundamental aspect of his plan.

He ushers me towards him and my feet are leaden with trepidation. I lurch forward and with a barely there touch of his hand, Edward positions me in front of him. I can feel the welcome warmth of his body and the quiet motion of his breathing.

"As soon as I get the door open," he instructs, "Keep it open. It's heavy so you have to stop it from bouncing back in."

Edward reaches up again and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when he almost grazes the skin there. I nod and reach out my hands towards the tiny crack between the door and it's frame.

"No, Bella!" he says angrily. "Don't use your fingers unless you want to break them. This is a fire door ; it weighs a fucking tonne. Use the toe of your boot and be careful."

I am certain he must feel the fire burn licking my cheeks at his reprimand as I move forward, ready to help as best I can.

His hands are tensed as he tries to budge the door and I can see the whites of his knuckles and the protruding veins in his wrist. Edward swears and pulls and the door shifts open an inch. He has no leverage, no grip so it is far from an easy feat. A muted grunt tickles my neck and the door is out enough for me to wedge it open. As soon as I do, Edward takes over and pulls it open altogether. I slip under his arm and we are in.

The door slams shut behind us with a bang that echoes through the deserted hallway. I jump, instincts trumping logic, and turn to see an amused and triumphant Edward.

"We haven't got all day," I tell him. All I know is that I need to get my key. What I don't know, is how to respond to him just standing and looking.

"Yes, Mistress," he responds sarcastically. "I am at your service. Lead the way,"

I gulp and begin to walk in the general direction of my locker, hoping that he can't see how unsteady I am on my feet.

My fingers feel like fat clumsy slugs as I twist the combination into my locker. I retrieve my keys and begin to gather some stuff into the backpack hanging on the hook.

"What are you doing that for?" I hear Edward ask in a strange disapproving tone. "It's Saturday. I know you're ahead with work. Why in God's name are you packing your geography notes?"

"Um…to give to you?"

"Because we always share notes," he replies with mock sincerity. "Bella, I don't even take geography."

"Fine," I concede. "No school stuff until Monday."

I try to say this with conviction ; try to be the girl I claim to be who can really leave it all behind.

"Look, bring it if you want. I'm just saying that it will do you no harm to focus on the important things for a day or two."

"Really? And what are these important things, oh straight A student?" I ask.

"Well…besides the obvious…"

"Obvious?" I interrupt and become the recipient of a scolding look.

"Relaxation. Frivolity. Drunkenness. Immaturity. The general teenage kicks sort of stuff," Edward lists while picking at some peeling paint on a random locker. "There is also the fact that if you stopped focusing so intently on what you think you know you might see the very thing that is right in front of you."

I am…perplexed. Puzzled. Pondering. I make a show of dumping the academic stuff into the locker and slamming the door shut. I turn and face him, twirling my keychain around my index finger.

"You're right," I say.

"I usually am. What about this time?"

"You just…are."

Edward nods and utters a quiet word of gratitude. I fix on a smile and we walk companionably through the banks of lockers in the ghostly silent halls, shoulders almost (but not quite) brushing.

It is almost surreal to be in the school while it's so empty. Like seeing a naked Christmas tree in January or being inside a nightclub in the daytime, there is something off about being here at the weekend. Our footsteps echo through corridors that normally fall victim to stampedes. Tatty posters and dusty surfaces seem shabbier without the buffer or youthful enthusiasm. It should be chilly but the empty building is surprisingly warm and dreamlike. I can't quell the sensation that I'm in the midst of something iniquitous and I roll around in it, happier than a pig in shit.

He comes to a pause in front of some vending machines and I wait while he considers his selection.

"Hungry?" he asks.

"We just ate."

"I want a drink. You don't find it warm in here?"

"Yeah, it's pretty hot. I wonder why the heat is on?" I say.

He shrugs and begins to straighten out some bills from his pockets. He gets a Coke, a lemonade and a couple of chocolate bars. The mechanical whir of the machine is loud and twice, I have to stop myself tapping my foot with impatience. Part of me might revel in the thrill, the other part is still a scaredy cat.

"What now?" Edward asks me then, brighter than before.

"What do you mean? Now, we go back to your car before someone sees us."

"You don't want to hang out a bit?"

With Edward? Yes. While illegally intruding on school property? Not so much.

"What do you have in mind?" I wonder.

"We could rearrange Banner's papers and freak him out. Go see what our esteemed principal has jotted in his files. Leave milk in Newton's locker…"

"You weren't kidding about the anarchy thing were you?"

"What can I say?" Edward smirks. "I bore easily."

"Why is it that you won't go to school at conventional times but choose to ramble around here on a perfectly good Saturday afternoon?" I say.

Edward hesitates and his lip curls in contemplation. "This way is preferable."

"How so?"

"If you can't see then I'm not about to explain it to you," he replies.

We seem to be at an impasse and I'm thinking of what to say next. I know I still haven't given him a straight answer about staying a while longer. My brain is all afluster and I don't know what to do.

A sharp bang resounds though the cavernous building then and I jump in surprise. Edward, who has been cool up to this, looks back at me eyes wide and tense. The authoritative sound of footsteps on polished tiles clip-clops in our direction.

I am frozen with fear. Edward wears the face of a worried old man. We are not alone in here in our misdemeanour.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! And thanks again to everyone who reviewed. Did you like Alice? I think I might have missed a couple of replies, if so, I'm sorry. I'm thinking the excerpt for this chapter will be Jasper._

_So did you like the chapter? Hate it? Dying to see what happens next? Ever sneak into a school when you weren't meant to be there? Share and share alike.  
_


	6. Chapter 6

_Oh the clever, things I should say to you__  
They get stuck somewhere, somewhere between me and you,  
__Oh I'm nervous, I don't know what to do  
Light a cigarette, only smoke when I'm with you._

The footsteps are getting louder; they are coming closer! There is more than one set and yet my own feet are stuck fast to the ground. We are screwed, of that I am certain.

"Someone's coming!" Edward's voice is the hiss of a snake and for an unknown reason, I am fighting the urge to hiss '_No Shit, Sherlock,' _back at him.

He grabs at the top of my arm, clumsy in his panic. I shake him off, but still let him lead me, and we duck behind the nearest door. Once inside, I press my back to the wooden door and allow myself to feel the extent of my fear and self -derision.

See, I tell myself, this is what happens when you try to be someone you're not. When you follow some boy blindly you're bound to get into trouble eventually. I should have listened to my parents warnings…

But above the incessant pounding of my heart and the angry voice in my head, I still hear those damn footsteps coming closer and closer and I kinda wish whoever it is would drop dead on the spot.

I'm going straight to hell.

My eyes can't help themselves and make their way over to Edward. How could they not want to look at him? He is standing completely still, head cocked to one side listening and calculating.

But his eyes….his eyes are wild. He's actually enjoying this and when I meet his gaze, I have to suppress a hyena-like giggle. He raises his finger to his twitching lips and nods towards the wall.

Oh right. How could I forget about my impending doom?

Parts of the classroom walls are made of these old-fashioned glass brick things that were all the rage in the seventies. Anyone passing can see shapes and shadows inside. This seems to register with Edward at the same time so he gestures towards the back of the dark classroom. I feel foolish but crouch down and we sit between a desk and wait.

It's only then that I realise we are in our biology lab.

Empty buildings have a way of twisting conceptions. Fear has a way of making people overreact. It takes longer than anticipated for the footfall to reach our location but each one hammers in sync with my heartbeat.

Shadows and reflection tell us that two people stride by the opaque glass. I hear muted conversation and a surprising squeal. They move smoothly, purposefully and I don't think we are the intended target at all. I heave a sigh of relief and the instant they have passed by, Edward is on his feet and moving stealthily towards the door.

"Edward!" I whisper frantically but he just raises a hand to silence me. He's pushing it now. This risk is unnecessary and I hate him for it. I want to pull him back safe by my side and I want to have the willpower to stop staring at the way his ass looks in his jeans.

He inches the door open and I wince at the quiet creak it makes. He peers out and I watch his reaction from my hiding place. Edward's cheeks lift into a grin and his shoulders are shaking with laughter.

"What?" I hiss, feeling petulant at being left out of the joke.

"You're not going to believe this," he says with a disbelieving shake of his head. He saunters back and rejoins me on the floor.

"Try me."

"That was Ms. Cope and Mr. Green."

"Working on a Saturday afternoon. They really need to get lives," I say.

Edward laughs again. "I don't think they are working Bella. But they are using the desk…"

"What? Ee-ew. You're making that up."

"If you want to look for yourself, be my guest." He looks mildly offended as he gestures towards the door.

"I don't want to see _that,_" I reply, shuddering at the mere thought of it. "I guess we're stuck here until they are, um, done."

"I don't see Greene lasting long," he offers.

"That's not something I want to think about." That shit's disgusting.

In fact this whole conversation is making me uncomfortable. Talking about sex, in any shape or form, with a boy is not something I'm familiar with. Talking about something that is apparently going on a few feet away, with the most attractive person I've ever seen in real life is positively nauseating. Edward, however, seems frighteningly comfortable with the whole thing.

I guess he doesn't feel the tension I do.

"And I always knew that Ms .Cope was a goer. The way she leans over in those low cut tops. It just takes a wink and she marks me present for every class. And one time, she gave my dad her phone number. She must have a thing for married men - "

"Can we stop talking about this?" I interrupt him.

"If that's what you want." Edward answers. He opens the Coke he bought earlier and the fizzle of the bubbles makes a noise that bounces softly off the walls. He tosses me the lemonade and I drink it greedily. At least now we know why the heat was on.

Surreptitiously, I observe him as he shifts to get comfortable on his spot on the floor. I had been avoiding looking at him too much up to this. The way he makes me react can be embarrassing. But wedged between the desks, facing each other, I don't really have a choice.

He is leaning against the opposite lab table, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He rolls up his shirtsleeves and I see how strong his forearms look, how the light strands of hair dissipate around his wrist and how the veins bulge and disappear as he twists the ring pull from his drink.

A couple of day's worth of dark stubble dusts his jaw - a hard edge to his otherwise youthful appearance. Edward is a precarious mix of man and boy and I don't know which side appeals to me more. In the silence, I hear the gulp of him drinking and watch the way his throat flexes when he swallows. I like it probably more than I should.

A sharp sound, suspiciously like a slap on flesh, echoes from the direction of the main office and is followed by a yelp. Edward almost chokes on his cola.

"Please start talking again," I practically beg.

"With pleasure."

"Go on, then." I urge him.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"The weather. Anything. Just distract me from what may be going on out there."

Edward seems highly amused by this. "Why do you think you feel so uncomfortable right now, Bella? Did your parents not have an open and healthy climate of sexual discussion while you were growing up? You seemed happy to make little jokes last night."

"Talk about something _normal!_"

"I was kidding, Bella." His face darkens considerably and he stops looking at me and goes back to twisting that stupid aluminum ring. "Don't you joke about this kind of stuff with Rose and Alice? I didn't mean to make you think I was abnormal." His voice trails of and he utters that last word like an insult.

"I didn't mean it like that," I sigh. "God, it's too fucking hot in here. Do you think it would look bad if we opened the window?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Edward answers quietly. He slides his nail under the wrapper and opens up the chocolate. "Eat this before it melts."

I brush away a clump of hair that is stuck to my forehead before accepting the chocolate. The square is smudged from where his finger touched it and I briefly touch that spot before popping into my mouth. It only takes that second to melt and when I look at Edward, we are both licking the sweet residue off our hands.

"I'm not used to talking to people I don't know," I admit. "Normally I just spend time with Rose or Alice. My dad isn't much for words and I'm not really good with people. So sometimes I have foot in mouth syndrome and I act before I think and I speak without due care and I don't really know what to say to you right now. I'm sorry if I've offended you."

"There's no need to be sorry."

"Well I still am."

"I find that hard to believe," Edward says. "About you not being good with people. I like spending time with you."

"You're just saying that."

"No." His voice is firm. "I don't say things I don't mean. I've been saying as much for the last twenty four hours. You need to start listening."

"I do listen."

All I do is listen, or at least that how I feel sometimes. Being best friends with Rose and Alice makes it hard to get a word in edgeways. I listen to my mom on the phone and I listen to Angela gush about Ben but I never tell them how I feel. When we're out in groups, I listen and I laugh but I rarely contribute to the conversation.

It's very rare for me to find someone I feel at ease with. Comfortable enough to talk freely. Which is precisely why this carefree feeling I experienced this last day, with the girls and with Edward and even Jasper and Emmett is scaring the crap out of me and making me wonder how to find my place, if it's not where I thought it was.

"Maybe you listen, Bella. But do you really hear?" Edward counters.

"I try."

"Try harder."

"Give me something worth hearing." I demand.

Please. In this superficial environment, in the dingy room, this empty place, give me something.

"I left my iPod in the car." Edward jokes and I swat at his shin with the back of my hand.

"Sarcasm isn't attractive," I tell him.

"Sorry. Show me what you want to talk about. Act like you would with your friends."

Edward means well but somehow discussing parent woe and clothes and who hooked up with who and that new song we like and last weeks episode of our favourite show seems a bit superficial for him. Sharing my dreams for the future seems too deep. Books and music seem too clichéd. Besides, I really want to know about Edward.

"Ok." I flash him a smile. "Any news?"

"Pardon?"

"This is how I typically start a conversation with Alice or Rosalie. Have you any news to share?"

He smiles. He's playing along. "Well, I somehow managed to get trapped in the school on a Saturday."

"Really? And how's that working out?"

"There's a pretty cool girl here with me so it's not so bad," he replies. Smooth bastard makes me lose my train of thought.

"Being trapped in the school must be your worst nightmare," I say. "Considering you seem to actively avoid this place as much as possible."

"Well there are no half-wit teachers or crowds or bells or insipid students so it's a vast improvement on an ordinary day. And the current company isn't half bad." His reply is light and I get the impression he's trying to distract me with compliments. I want him to share with me but I want him to want to do it.

"Yeah…maybe if you came to class more often it might be bearable," I say, dipping my baby toe into the water of friendship.

"It's not like you talk to me much when I do come," he replies.

Is that true? Did I really find him that intimidating?

"I guess not," I admit. "You didn't talk to me either though."

"I guess I fucking didn't." His reply is a mix of wistful and angry. These are the kind of things he does that I don't understand. "Sorry 'bout that."

" S'okay…all in the past now."

Edward nods. "How's your knee?"

Surprised, I look down at the bandage covered lump on my leg.

"Not too bad. It hasn't bled anymore."

"That's good. You need to change the bandages though." Edward says and looks around the lab. "I bet there's a first aid box in here somewhere."

"It's above the fire extinguisher," I reply automatically.

"I'll help you now so." Edward moves to get up and I grab his ankle to keep him down.

"No! It's fine. I'll do it when I get home."

"Are you sure? I don't mind," he persists.

"I'm sure." I fiddle with a lose thread on Rosalie's denim shirt while Edward settles back against the table. I'm sweating uncomfortably. My face feels hot and shiny and it has to be scarlet. Moisture has pooled in the crease of my bra and my tights are sticking to my legs. I feel gross and immensely aware that it's been thirty one hours since I last showered

"It's fucking roasting in here," Edward complains.

I look at him - he's unbuttoning his shirt and I almost swoon. At least if I faint I can blame it on the heat, right? In one smooth motion he pulls the shirt down over his shoulders; his toned and muscular shoulders. I am entranced.

"When in Rome," I mutter and pull my sweatshirt over my head. "I felt like I was gong to pass out there for a sec."

Edward's eyes are on me, roaming and wandering up my body.

"What?" I ask, self consciously flattening my hair and pulling down the hem of my top.

His eyes meet mine then, no longer roving but full of a mutual kinship. I get it. I get the mirrored devilment and I don't know what do with it.

"Nothing." His tone is innocent but his grin is wicked and I find myself returning it with matching mischief. "Nice bra," he comments and I die.

My hands scream at me to fly up and cover my chest. My instincts yell that I should spontaneously combust such is the heat that my body is exuding.

I fight back.

"Thank you." I answer and Edward's comment, designed no doubt to make me flustered, becomes an silly compliment.

"I should be the one thanking you."

And right there, I revert to flustered again. Time to take the focus of me and my boobs.

"Edward?" I ask.

"Yes?"

"Why do you never go to school?"

His head jerks in surprise and I am longer the flustered one. He is blinking and I know he is trying to think of an answer.

I try to backtrack. "Sorry. That was blunt and intrusive and so not my business. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to -"

"I want to."

"Want to go to school?"

"No, Bella. I'll talk to you about this. But there really isn't much to it. No deep dark secret."

I wait and Edward takes a deep breath before he continues to speak.

"I don't like school. Never have. When I was a kid, we moved around a lot. Carlisle was a sought after surgeon and every time he got a better offer or a chance to do some good, he took it. He thought he was doing the right thing - helping sick people and giving the best opportunity to his family. But we never spent more than a year or two in the one place."

"I used to live with my Mom," I tell Edward when he takes a breath. "She never settled at anything she did - jobs, homes, boyfriends.."

He raises his eyes from his lap. "It's tough right? So you've lived here two years and I've been here three. Do you consider it home?"

"Sometimes."

"And the other times?"

"I don't think I've found my home yet."

Edward's nod is emphatic and I realise we have another thing in common.

"Speaking of settling, I never really settled in a school. I was home schooled as a kid but I think Esme got more out of that than I did. I went to a couple of private schools, a few public ones. I was in a school for gifted kids before we came here."

"And are you?" I ask.

"Gifted?" There is scorn in Edward's voice at the word. "Depends on your definition. I've scored in the top two percentile in any of the recognized assessments but that's not to say that I've any special talent or ability."

"And did you like that school?" I wonder.

"I didn't hate it. There was a really good music department there. But Esme wanted to live in small town and Carlisle was burnt out so he took a cushy job here."

"How come they didn't enroll you in Alice's school?" I ask.

"The institute?" he asks with a mocking laugh. "My rebellious and uncooperative attitude was not conducive to their policies, or so they told me"

"But they're like, totally weird over there. They have daily lectures on how to 'nurture young minds' and hold classes on beanbags for fucks sake!"

Edward lets out another one of those deep glorious laughs. "Do you mind if I smoke?" he asks.

"I don't mind but what if _they _smell it?" I ask, inclining my head in the general direction of the office-slash-den of iniquity.

"I think _they _have more on their minds," he replies. "Besides the smell of gas in here will mask it."

"The gas! Isn't that dangerous?" I exclaim. Some of the losers in this school think turning on the gas in lab is a fun way to spend your afternoon. Edward, in response, flicks his lighter playfully in my direction. It's an old-fashioned one, all tarnished silver, that looks like it has a history to it.

"Have you ever been in a lab that doesn't smile like gas?" he asks. "It's a permanent fixture, seeped into the furniture. I think we're safe."

Edward raises his cigarette to his mouth and it purses around the filter tip. The light of the tiny flame glows on his rust-sprinkled upper lip and his eyes close briefly as he inhales. His cheeks hollow and puff out as he takes the first satisfying drag.

"Can I have one?" I ask.

"You don't smoke," he states but he opens up the packet.

"I'm a social smoker," I reply. "Though usually only when alcohol is involved."

"It's bad for you." As he says this, Edward leans over and hands me a cigarette. There's no denying the spark when our fingers brush. I put it in my mouth and Edward moves onto his knees, hovering over me lighter in hand and hair falling in his eyes. He lights the cigarette and I feel him watching me intently as I inhale. Success! I don't cough or choke.

"It's bad for you," he repeats. "But it doesn't look bad on you."

That being said, he goes back to his spot on the ground, his legs closer to mine this time.

"And did Emmett find it as hard as you have?" I ask, trying to worm the chat back around to Edward and not me. I'm boring. He isn't.

"I never said I found it hard. I'm just giving you some reasons as to why I don't come in much." His reply is almost sharp and it stings a little. "Emmett…he's one of the most remarkably resilient people you'll ever meet. Always easy going and willing to adapt. You'll see, the more you get to know him. And he's always affable and the life of the party and I'm…not. Plus he's always been into sports and there's a football team everywhere you go."

"And don't your parents mind?" I ask. Perhaps I shouldn't be asking so much but I can't contain my rampant curiosity about this boy.

"They only want me to happy. They feel quite an amount of guilt at not giving me the start in life they feel now, I should have gotten. Hindsight is twenty/twenty vision. I get good grades and I don't cause hassle with the teachers. Plus, a little charm and ingenuity can sweep a lot of things under the carpet."

I take this in before I ask my next question. "Don't you ever get…never mind." I'm afraid to say the word _lonely._

"What?" he presses.

"Bored?" I say instead.

"We all get bored sometimes, Bella. Don't you?"

"All the time. In school especially," I admit.

"See?" He raises one eyebrow. "Location has very little to do with boredom, or loneliness, for that matter. You must have felt that at the beach last night."

"I guess…" I trail off, feeling thoroughly rumbled." But if the work doesn't challenge you…"

"Does it challenge you?"

"Rarely."

"Well without the aid of teachers, not that they are much help, it is slightly more challenging," Edward says. "And there are more things to relieve boredom than the monotony of schoolwork, as I'm sure you are quite aware. I've learned a lot more from my father and from books or from a visit to the museum than I ever did in these classrooms."

"Ah museums," I say, longing in my voice. "I haven't been to one since I lived with Renee and she thought taking a watercolour class made her an artist. They're not really Alice or Rosalie's thing."

"There's a great exhibition in the city right now." Enthusiasm brightens his eyes up like the green-for-go traffic light. "Artifacts from the Revolution. I guarantee you'll learn more there than in the remedial level classes they teach here. You should check it out."

"Maybe." My reply is non-committal and I'm busy wondering how to ask him what revolution without sounding like a retard.

"And if you need a ride, I could take you."

"Really?" I ask as my heart swells with delight at his words. It feels like it burst out my chest and I have enough problems with drawing Edward's attention to that area already.

"Yeah. Why not? I have to pick up some stuff from the tuning place anyway," he answers, casually stubbing out his cigarette on a nearby petri dish.

My heard deflates rapidly and a forgotten about tower of ash falls from my cigarette and onto the scuff-marked floor.

"We'll see," I reply.

"Whatever you want." Edward shrugs, leans forward and blows the ash away.

"So…what else do you like?" I ask.

"Long walks on the beach. Sunsets. Candlelit dinners…"

"Be serious, wise ass."

"Same things everyone likes Bella. Music, reading, movies. I like hanging out with my friends and family, going out and getting drunk when the occasion arises and I like interesting conversations with nice but nosey girls."

"Am I included in that category?" I ask, smiling proud.

"Are you a nice girl?"

"Most of the time."

"Good enough for me," he says and gives me a wink.

Damn right I am. During the course of our conversation, we've somehow moved closer together, so close that the length of his denim-clad legs are aligned and pressing against mine. My body is getting stiff from sitting on the floor and so, I stretch out and avoid watching Edward watch me do it. Somehow this results in our legs entangling together. It feels more than nice and Edward doesn't object so I leave them where they are.

"And what do you do like to do?" Edward asks me.

"The usual. Pretty much everything you listed there. And I like to cook. Nothing strange or startling there," I say with a sigh.

"Don't put yourself down," Edward replies vehemently.

"I wasn't. Just stating a fact in saying that I am completely ordinary."

"You're the opposite of ordinary." His voice is warm and seemingly sincere.

"So are you," I tell him, the most honest answer I can find.

Our eyes meet and we smile, relaxed and tangled on the biology lab floor. I don't think I can remember a better time spent in this school.

We talk a while more about the plans for tonight - the club and who will be there and what happened last week. Then, Edward is shushing me as the principal and his secretary amble past the room walking slow and satisfied and freshly fucked. I will never be able to look either of them in the eye again and thank the heavens that I rarely frequent the principal's office.

When Edward deems the coast to be clear, we head back out to his car completely silent and serious and it hits me that this debacle was as much as a risk for him as it was for me. Thrill-seeker or not, it was a nice thing for him to do. He drives me home with the sound of music the only one in the car but it is nice and not awkward at all. In fact, the whole afternoon has been quite nice and I feel warm and content because of it. And a little part of me feels bad in a good way and I love it.

Too soon, we are outside my cracked driveway and my house looks even shabbier in the daylight and the gutters need cleaning and I hate that Charlie is useless around the house right then.

"So I guess I'll see you tonight?" I say to Edward as I open the car door.

"Yeah. We're going to Alice's I think, so I'll see you there. Save some vodka for me."

"Cool." I reply and turn to leave. "And thanks. For today. I wouldn't be home now if it wasn't for you and I know it was a risk and I really appreciate - "

"Bella," he cuts me off. "It was my pleasure."

Edward drives off before I can answer and already I am counting down the minutes until I can see him again.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Apologies for any typos_/_mistakes. I always love to hear your thoughts so don't be shy in reviewing!_

_Reviewers - What did you think of Jasper? Any surprises there? The excerpt for this chapter will be a very short Edward pov. Then it's time for Bella and the girls to get ready for the night out.  
_


	7. Chapter 7

_I gotta feeling,__  
That tonight's gonna be  
A good night._

_-_

Edward's car tears off, brake lights flashing red as he squeals around the corner. I am standing on my porch with the sharp key digging into my flesh and it's only when I realise I'm gazing at a deserted road that I go inside. The wooden door creaks when I open it. The sound of my keys landing in the bowl in the hall echoes through the empty house.

"I'm home," I say in a small voice, not expecting an answer. I'm used to being home alone and ordinarily, I like it. Peace, quiet and not having to make small talk are little joys that make me happy. But right now, I'm not sure that I know what to do with all the thoughts swirling like a tornado inside my usually calm mind.

So ignore them. I bunker down in the storm shelter and focus on the banalities that usually occupy my life. I check the mail. I bring the trashcan in from the street. I rinse yesterday's cereal bowls, stomach turning from the smell of sour milk. I fold some laundry and do some cleaning. I am the youngest homemaker in town.

Words like _wrong _and _stop_ and _relax_ are the drizzle from the tornado and they are all heard in Edward's voice._ This is not who you're meant to be._ I ignore them and work myself into a fury scrubbing the cooker. My fingers are red raw, my face shines with the sweat and eventually frustrated tears stream down my face and I don't even try to stop them falling.

I cry because an overflow of feelings and emotions needs an outlet. Some part of me is mourning the breezy girl I was a while ago and wants to reclaim her. Another part berates myself for all the things I did wrong while with Edward. But mostly I am confused. The things I thought I knew are changing and it scares me a little.

The afternoon is fading into evening and I really should start getting ready. I use a dishcloth to wipe my eyes, abandon my chores and head upstairs to take a bath. I don't want to feel all topsy turvy anymore and a hot bubble bath is just the thing to wash it away.

Clothes peeled off, I wait for the warm water to fill the narrow bath. Steam fills the room and clouds the mirror, mercifully hiding my tear splotched face. With the tip of my finger I write Edward's name in the condensation, then I shake my head and wipe it away with the back of my hand.

The hot water is pleasant around me; I'm in warm little bubble that no-one can penetrate unless I invite them in. The gashes on me knees sting a little but I can handle it. Sweet wafts of bubble bath overpower grease and smoke and warm waves soothe my muscles. My hair swirls and floats in dark tendrils on white suds. I cup some in my palm and blow them into the misty air. I make a beard of soap before wiping it away with a giggle. I lift my leg out of the water and watch how droplets glisten on my toes. My breasts peek out above the water and no matter what I do, I can't get the suds to rest on them. They always slide away.

I do this and think of Edward and what it would feel like to have him here with me. I know he's the only one I'd let into my bubble. It would be lovely, I decide, to feel his bare wet skin on mine.

With a splash, I drop my hands back into the water and stop that train of thought. I need to think about this without being clouded by lust and fantasy. Not to mention, that I'd feel a little creepy the next time I see him.

So I look past the enigma - the gorgeousness and the mystery and rebellion - and think about the boy who let me into his life this past day. The rawness and the vulnerability and the way he repeatedly went out of his way to help me. I'm getting to know him and I like what I see. The words and phrases he used, the things he said to me, replay in my brain. And that look we shared in lab, blatantly checking each other out. This is new to me, but it may not be new to him and I'm afraid that it means more to me.

But I do know now, that is does mean _something_ to him.

And I can work with that.

My phone trills from it's spot on the cistern and I grab it with slippery hands. It's Alice.

"Hey girl," I say.

"Hey Bella. What are you up to?"

"Just taking a bath, getting ready for tonight. How did the recital go?"

"It was fun! You would have loved it." Alice giggles. "One of the moms sprayed to much Elnett on her kids hair, lit a calming aromatherapy candle and the whole thing caught fire. That shit's flammable."

"Oh my God, was she hurt?"

"Nah. It was all extensions anyway."

"Neat."

There's a pause.

"Listen, Bella," Alice breaks the silence. "I'm sorry 'bout last night. If I'd any idea you were locked out I would never have abandoned you -"

"It's fine. You weren't to know."

"Yeah but I don't want it to seem like I'm neglecting our friendship just because I'm with Jasper now. I still believe in chicks before dicks."

"You can't pull that phrase off, Alice."

"I know." She sighs. "As soon as it was out my mouth I knew it sounded lame. So we're cool?"

"Always."

"And I heard your day was…eventful. I can't believe you broke into the school."

"Where did you hear that?" I ask.

"Jasper. And he also told me that you stayed in Edward's room last night. You two are so perfect together -"

"Ali," I interrupt. "Nothing happened."

"Not yet. But it will."

"Is that a fact?"

"Yep," she states with confidence. "I know these things. You like him. He likes you. It couldn't be simpler."

"Did he say something to Jasper?"

"J wouldn't tell me. But you guys are so sweet together. I mean, did you get the impression that he's into you?"

"No. Yes. Kinda." I groan. "It's all so complicated."

"That's life hun. But if it works out it'll be so worth it."

"But Alice…"

"Yeah?"

"I _really _like him. And I'm afraid that this is just passing time for him. A way to relieve boredom or something. Or I'm just convenient because I'm friends with you and Rose. And what if I fall hard when all I am to him is a bit of fun?"

"Bella," she says my name with resignation. "You can't live like this. Change is good and you should embrace it. Fun is good and you and Edward could have some together. Okay, I don't know him really well but Jazz and Em do and I trust their judgment. But since the day Edward Cullen moved into town I've never seen him do anything just for the sake of it. He's always deliberate and focused and right now it seems he's focused on you. Just go with it."

"When did you get to be so smart?" I ask her.

"All these years reading Cosmo have paid off in spades."

Alice goes on to regale me, in exact detail, about her clothes for that night and all the fun we're going to have. I listen intently and join in in the girl-talk until the water turns lukewarm and my skin develops the consistency of an old prune. We say our goodbyes and it's only when I hang up that I remember I didn't ask about things with her and Jasper.

I begin the chore of beautifying myself. I may play the natural beauty card but that shit still takes work. Lather, rinse, repeat. Condition. Shave. Pluck. Though last weeks waxing session brought it's own unpleasantness, it's still infinitely preferable to lady shaves (because no-one wants stubbly bits with lumpy ingrown hairs) and cream bleach (because having a hairy orange caterpillar on your top lip is damn attractive). Having dark hair is a curse worse than periods and no, I didn't need Alice and Rose to march me into a salon. I can make an appointment and hold my legs in the air all by myself, thank you very much.

The things we go for beauty. If I were a boy, I'd do more than roll outta bed in the morning and throw on what I wanted and go. I'd throw away razors and make-up and flat irons and any other unnecessary paraphernalia. Boys have it so easy. Edward, in wrinkled clothes and messy hair and stubbly ace looks perfectly acceptable. In fact, he looks fuckhot and I'm ridiculously excited to see what he looks like tonight.

Dry hair. Straighten it. Curl the ends. Grab a quick bite to eat. Iron dress. Pick out practical yet sexy underwear because that always makes me feel confident. Apply make-up in a way that is flattering, alluring, but never overdone. Paint finger nails black. Paint toenails all the colours of the rainbow and then roll black tights over them because they are necessary to cover my grazed knees.

My favourite LBD is the chosen outfit for tonight. Short satin with a little beading, it flatters and clings and makes me feel pretty fucking good about myself. I slip my feet into my most comfortable heels. Yeah, heels aren't so good for the clumsy among us but the day I wear flats to a club somebody better check if hell has frozen over. Alcohol, practice and ankle straps are the keys to success.

I look in the mirror and like what I see.I hate that I think this way, but I'm hoping Edward will too.

Rosalie's car horn sounds from outside and with a quick check I have everything, I head out.

The drive to Alice's is short and I listen to Rose ramble on about her day at work and the sheer _amazingness _of one Emmett Cullen. The best thing about this girl is she knows when to back off. She doesn't ask me questions about Edward that I don't want to answer. Of course, she could just be self-absorbed but either way I'm not complaining.

Alice's parents have taken the brat named Cynthia out to celebrate her win so we've got the house to ourselves. We let ourselves in and find Alice in her bedroom amidst piles of clothes, shoes and copious amounts of alcohol. A typical Saturday night.

"Bella!" she exclaims. "You're dressed. And you look hot!"

"Don't sound so surprise," I reply feigning insult.

"But we agreed to get ready together. That was the plan."

"Plans change, Alice."

"I need help with my hair," Rose cuts in to appease her and the mild tension is removed.

We crack open the vodka and toast to a good night. That's the other good thing about drinking in Alice's - her parents like the best of everything and that includes alcohol.

The music is loud and silly and I take a second to appreciate the kind of high that can only come with the promise of a girls night out. We chat and cackle like witches while Alice puts the finishing touches to her ensemble. She looks damn cute in her blue puffball dress and I am relieved when Rosalie bluntly tells her to quit with lilac lipgloss unless Jasper's got some weird necrophilia fetish going on. I collapse into giggles while Alice turns red, then purple before finally relenting and settling on a pretty pink lip-stain.

Soon, we run out of peers and acquaintances to gossip about and talk turns to boys. I sit back and listen and wonder what it would be like to join and say _Edward does this_ or_ Edward does that. _I'm on my second drink and feeling warm and happy when they turn away from the mirror and look at me.

"He's a fool if he doesn't make a move soon."

I don't need to ask who or deny any knowledge of what they're talking about. These are my girls and they obviously have been talking among themselves about me but that's okay.

"Damn right," I agree. "Edward Cullen would be fucking lucky to get a girl like me and I don't intend to forget that again."

I say the words and hope that it will make me fully believe them. The girls whoop and we clink glasses and I love this feeling.

"Although…" Alice says suggestively. "If you took off those tights and showed a bit of leg it might spur him along."

"Not gonna happen."

"Girl, you've got killer legs. If you've got it, flaunt it. Isn't that right, Rose?"

Rosalie nods her agreement with Alice, as she adjusts her ample cleavage in the mirror. If her dress was any lower there would be some serious nip slips happening.

"Tights are staying on," I insist.

"Give me a good reason why," Alice challenges, hands on hip.

"I'll give you several. First of all, it's still freakin' cold out. Second of all, I've got bandages on my knees that need to remain covered. Third of all, I like this look. And fourth of all, this dress is almost indecently short and without the tights I look like a hoochie."

"A hoochie? Really, Bella? You could have been a lot more intimidating there if you just said whore." Rosalie pipes up. I shoot her my best death glare.

"Well you're a hoochie looking for a smoochie so you should be pulling out all the stops," Alice counters.

"And she doesn't want to show off her coochie, so leave her alone." Rosalie speaks up and her words make us all dissolve into laughter. "Bella does not want chapped lips or a greyhound skirt so leave her the fuck alone."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth, Rose?" I choke out between laughs.

"Vulgarity is not attractive," Alice adds.

"Emmett finds me and my vulgar mouth damn attractive and that's all that matters." Rosalie's reply is more that a bit smug.

"How 'bout a necklace? Some bling to draw attention to your…best assets." Alice is persistent.

"Who on earth says bling anymore?" I say, raising my glass for emphasis. "And for the record, I appreciate your concern but I am perfectly capable of dressing myself."

"I'm only trying to help," she says but doesn't try inflict her fashion sense on me anymore.

More drinks are poured and scandal shared.I'm enjoying it being just us girls. We check out the aftermath of last night's beach session via the internet and then put that new song on loud. The general consensus is that if we hear it in the club tonight we will explode. Out of manners, I text Angela to let her know what the plan is and I've been here longer than I thought.

"When are the boys getting here?" I ask in my best casual voice.

"Impatient are we?" Rosalie teases. As she speaks, headlights flash along the big the patio doors that lead to the balcony and tires crunch on gravel.

"They're here!" Alice squeals and runs out to the balcony. "Come in!"

For such a tiny person she sure can bellow when need be. The girls gather their stuff and head down to their boyfriends but I need a moment.

"Aren't you coming?" Alice pauses at the door.

"I'll be down in a minute." I say and their footsteps fade off down the hall.

I go over to the full length mirror and scrutinise my reflection as I reapply powder and gloss. I tell myself to be happy with what I see and I find myself doing all those girly primping motions that are ultimately pointless - adjust my bra, fluff my hair and smooth my skirt. Deep down, I know that I'll stop caring as soon as we leave the house.

The door creaks behind me and I jump. In the mirror, I see Edward in the hallway looking like a boy that's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Edward!" I spin around. "You gave me a fright."

"Sorry. I just…I mean…that wasn't my intention."

"It's okay."

He's still standing in the doorway and I feel his eyes on me as I look for my purse.

"Bella." His voice is breathy. It does sinful things to me. "You look amazing."

"Oh…thanks." I mutter looking at my shoes.

"Fuck, I mean you looked nice before. But all dressed up like that…you look…wow."

His words send my self esteem through the roof. This is the first time he's given me a direct compliment like that. Sure, he's called me interesting and stuff but sometimes a girl just wants to hear that she's pretty.

"You scrub up good yourself," I tell him. And he does. I kinda miss the scruff on his jaw but clean-shaven Edward is sexy in a more sophisticated way. His jeans fit well without crossing the territory into my-girlfriend-could-borrow-these and his shirt makes the colour of his eyes pop.

"Thanks."

Now it's Edward's turn to look at the floor.

"Were you looking for something?" I ask, trying to determine why he was loitering in the hallway.

"Alice sent me up to get the vodka. She told me heels and stairs don't mix. And Em's on the beer but I hate that shit…" he rambles.

I pass him one bottle and kick the empty one under the bed.

"You girls got the good stuff," he says appreciatively.

"Yeah. Alice siphons the Grey Goose from her parents liquor cabinet and replaces it with cheap stuff. Rose goes to the Russian supermarket 'cos they never card there and buys the stuff that's imported but not in a good way. It's more like paint stripper than alcohol. We pour it into these bottles and the Brandon's are none the wiser."

Edward lets out one of those laughs I love so much. I knew that would appeal to his rebellious nature.

"You mean when they have snooty cocktail parties the hobnobs are sipping on throat burning cheap vodka?"

"Yup."

" I just gained a whole new level of respect for you girls."

"You ain't seen nothing yet." I lead him out of the bedroom, down the stairs and I know in my heart that his eyes are on my ass the whole time. Heels do have their benefits.

In the living room, music blares from the TV and everyone is loud and laughing and having fun. Jasper and Emmett both tell me I look nice, which I think is really nice of them and tell them so. We all laugh some more

"Bella Swan," Alice exclaims, voice laced with accusation. "You did not tell us about your exploits in the high school this afternoon."

"Whatchoo talking 'bout? You knew Edward helped me get my keys and instigated my first foray into crime."

"Isn't underage drinking a crime?" Edward asks. I ignore him but for a withering look which makes him crack up.

"Yes but you did not tell us that you guys got trapped in the bio lab while the horny administrators fucked in the office."

"I didn't?" Why didn't I? I kinda wanted to keep the talk Edward and I had private, I suppose. "It must have slipped my mind."

"How could _that _slip your mind? It's like trending topic worthy news." Rosalie interjects.

"It just did." I steal a glance at Edward and he's got this confused look on his face and I just want to smooth it away.

There's a silent moment until Emmett asks the burning question.

"Did you see anything good?"

"Perv," hisses Rosalie.

"Ask him." I point at Edward.

"It wasn't really a case of _seeing_, per se." He squirms a little, uncomfortable with either the subject or the attention. "It was more of a general impression."

"I bet Greene's ass left an impression on the desk," Jasper says. "You can use it as ammunition the next time he hauls your ass into his office."

"I think we're just hoping to suppress the memory," I say and I like the use of the word _we_ there. "Please, don't go spreading this around. I don't want Newton asking for the gory details or wondering how exactly I know in the first place."

We all agree because really, scandal is fun but nobody in their right mind wants to dwell on such ideas for too long. There are jokes to be cracked and shots to be drank and good times to be had. We can only go up from here.

Before long, we are piled into the jeep and Jasper is going to drive us to our destination. Emmett calls shotgun and Alice moans about creasing her dress but I don't utter a word of complaint. Six people in one car is a tight squeeze and it just so happens that I wind up on Edward's lap. I love the feel of his voice in my ear and his breath on my neck as he just about sings along to the thumping music.

We speed along the road, headlights zipping by, and I feel on top of the world when his arms keep me steady over the bumps. Jasper finds a handy parking spot and we exit the car. The night sky is twinkling and I can taste the excitement in the atmosphere. The steady beat of music drifts our way and people amble by, all dressed up and out for a good time.

We walk confident towards the door, three matching pairs. ID is not an issue here and since Emmett trains with the bouncer, neither is the queue. Coats checked and entrance fee paid, we push through the doors. Edward holds them open for me.

And the music and the lights and the noise and the revelry hits me full force and I want to dive in.

We have arrived.

* * *

_Well? Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think! I always find that getting ready can be as much fun as the night out itself.  
_

_Reviewers - thanks again. I appreciate them more than I can say and I hope you guys like the last excerpt. There won't be one for this chapter but I will send out a preview of chapter eight instead! _


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N :**_This fic contains mentions of the following things - smoking, underage drinking, some reference to drug taking. I hope anyone reading is old/mature/smart enough to know these things aren't cool.__  
I like it, but I don't take it too seriously. Remember that while reading.  
Twilight and it's characters aren't mine. Neither are any of the song lyrics referenced._

_

* * *

_

_I'm feeling hella good so I'm gonna keep on dancing.  
You want me like you should so I'm gonna keep on dancing_

_-_

When we enter the club, the girls and I embark on our usual routine and leave the boys to fend for themselves. We don't plan this shit, but we do the same thing every single time. It's a girl thing. A getting your bearings thing.

Firstly, we go to the toilets. Breaking the seal so early in the night isn't really ideal but this is the chance to regroup. So we clomp up the ridiculously inconvenient flight of stairs that leads to the ladies room for to pee, preen and talk. In that order. Bladder emptied for now and hair and make-up having survived the trip over here, we discuss what's happened so far. That translates to Alice and Rose gushing about the boys and me saying little (but smiling a lot) about Edward.

Second, we go to the bar. Get drinks. It's early but I can tell it's a double vodka and redbull kind of night. I don't care what people say about mixing depressants and stimulants, sometimes it just has to be done. Maybe when I'm old, like in my mid twenties, I'll drink sophisticated cocktails. The kind without umbrellas. I'll perch on a barstool in some swanky bar with my ankles crossed. Maybe there'll be a guy with me. Someone who looks like Edward and acts like Edward. But older and wearing a suit. Tonight though, I suck vodka through a straw like it's mother's goddamn milk. I never said I was classy.

Third, we go to the our usual spot. The secluded area with a comfortable couch and table and the best view of the club, where we can always come back to if we get separated. Drinks in hand, we head over to the boys. They are standing by our couch, while some dowdy looking girls sit there with one sparkling water between them. Amateurs. Don't they know this is our seat?

That predatory instinct kicks in, only partly because one of them keeps batting her clumpy lashes at Edward. Time to mark our territory. We stand around the table and Rose is all pouting lips and sly touches, making it clear that the boys are with unavailable. We sidle closer, too close for polite company and Alice makes a show of leaving our glasses on the table. Now we are blocking their view and the finally take the hint and get the fuck away from our table. Success!

We slide into the seat and take deep swigs of our drinks to celebrate a job well done. The boys look on, obivously impressed and slightly amused. We are more than a little smug when they squash in beside us. I am more than a little excited when Edward sits beside me. His arm is resting against my shoulder. His shirt looks a little shabby but the material feels soft and rich. I wonder if it was fancy once and got worn with age. Then I wonder if he bought it that way, some kind of faux vintage pre-distressed thing that boys from London wear in magazines. I decide I'd rather not know the answer.

I'm feeling strangely fine though, as the my tights slide over the leather seat so I can cross my legs. I do this to get comfortable. Grazing Edward's shin lightly with my heel is only a side benefit. My head bops along to the music, a small smile playing on my lips. My blood is warm and my mind is excited. My body is happy, breathing in the feel and smell of Edward.

Other stuff happens too. We get another round of drinks - shots this time and we have fun knocking them back. Edward makes the cutest little grimace at the vile taste. We talk about all sorts of random crap, in completely serious voices, and roars of raucous laughter go up from our table. Edward's laugh is rich and glorious. We watch other people mingle around, early and unsure. There's little else to do in this town so _everyone _is here tonight. We're not above making comments about the people we know. Nothing too mean, but still, we can be witty without being downright insulting. Edward says very little, not knowing or not caring about the Forks randomers. I watch the expression on his face to try get the real idea. His eyes tighten when creepy James starts eyeing up a wasted slip of a thing. His eyes brighten when a man carrying a crate of records and an open laptop gives Edward a friendly wave. They must know each other. His eyes even look a bit soft when Angela and Ben swing by our table hand in hand. There is something very endearing about those two. Maybe Edward is a romantic beneath that rough exterior. The idea makes me sigh and I have to hurriedly disguise it as a yawn.

Who knew you could see so much just by looking in someone's eyes? Maybe it depends on the someone.

With all this Edward-watching going on, I find it hard to keep up with the conversation. The music is loud and my head is spinning slightly. I decide my next drink will be water. I'm blinking then, realising I've been too quiet too long. I should be talking. This would be an ideal opportunity to speak with Edward. Why isn't alcohol loosening my tongue? Instead it is making me swallow my words and my brain can only come up with nonsense anyway.

Momentarily, I am distracted as the first brave souls hit the dance floor. A small group of girls dance around their purses, their gusto rivalling any pussycat doll. They always strike me as a little desperate - those first attention seeking girls on the floor. Or maybe I'm just envious of their lack of inhibitions.

I gaze away from our table, down at the dance floor. I don't know what do while Alice and Rose act all couply with their men. I watch some girls from my class pour clear liquid into their drinks from little plastic bottles stashed in their bags. They think they are being discreet but I can see them way over here.

Edward starts talking but I don't quite catch what he is trying to say so he waves his hand in front of my eyes to get my attention. His lips seem to make the words _Earth to Bella_ but I can't hear the sound. The music is too loud. I like watching them move though, full and soft and wet from his drink. I make a gesture, cupping my hand behind my ear to indicate I can't hear him. I expect him to shout louder in compensation. He doesn't. Instead he leans down, arm behind my head to remove barriers and speaks directly in my ear. His breath tickles my skin and jangles my earrings.

"Are you having fun yet?" His voice is low and makes me shiver. That is a good question.

"Are you?" I reply, raising my eyebrows.

"I'm enjoying myself."

"You're not the only one." I glance around at the teeming club and at our friends. Emmett is kissing Rosalie's neck. Alice and Jasper are deep in conversation.

Edward shrugs dismissively. "We don't know what they're thinking or feeling. Maybe they're only pretending."

"To have a good time? Is that what you're doing?"

"Not tonight." He looks towards the DJ booth and shakes his head slightly. "What do you think they'll play next?"

Right. A subject change. I can play this game.

"Some tacky hip-hop song,"I say, making a show of looking at my watch. The song fades into the next and sexualised lyrics run over beats show my prediction was correct.

"Good guess," he replies.

"Any fool could predict it."

Edward looks pointedly at the gaggle of girls who squealed, threw back their drinks and ran to the dance floor just seconds before.

"Not _every _fool." We both laugh.

"Seriously," I say, sloshing my drink a little. "They play the same songs in the same order every fucking week. We're on the hiphop section of the evening. And next will be…"

"Chart stuff. Commercial. Whatever's big right now."

"Yup. Then we'll get some dance, techno whatever. An attempt to lure out the more hardcore people."

"Then some oldies - Abba. Eighties pop. Shit like that," Edward continues.

"Then rock. Giving something to the boys who wanna jump around."

"Then back to current stuff. Floor-fillers. When everyone is hammered enough to go mad for them."

"Then finish with something loud and dramatic. Always leave them wanting more." he concludes. His arm is still on the back of my seat and his lips at my ear. Our knees are touching as we lean in to one another.

"So what would you like to hear?" He asks.

"Dunno." I shrug. "Don't get me wrong, I like the popular stuff as much as the next girl but sometimes…I just want something more…"

"Something different."

"We're not gonna find that around here are we?" I think aloud.

There is a gleam in Edward's eye. "You never know."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," I say. "I think it's time the DJs here shook things up a bit, don't you?"

He looks offended on their behalf. "That would be like shooting the messenger. It's the clientele that needs to liven up, not the DJ. They are only catering to demand."

"I guess you're right." I purse my lips and imagine the Laurens of this town hearing anything beyond their musical comfort zone.

"I usually am," he echoes his statement from earlier in the day and begins fiddling with his phone, texting or something.

I think of the time we've spent together - the talking and the bonding and I shift closer to him in my seat. There is definitely something here. Something that makes me relaxed and excited. Something that has made the lights and the music from the club fade away so that all I see and hear is Edward beside me.

I'm feeling a new urge. It tells me to get our coats and leave. I want to be somewhere quiet and dark and alone with him. I've seen people act on this before - this frantic need to abandon the night to be with someone somewhere - but I've never experienced it first hand. To not act on it, is a major struggle to my loosened inhibitions.

But there are friends here. Drinks to be drank. Dancing and mingling to be done. Merriment to be had. I can't leave. Edward's looking at me like he might want to. We can't. Can we? No, I decide, not yet.

"I'm going out for a smoke," Edward announces. He's addressing everyone but looking at me. It's an invitation.

"I'll go with you." Jasper says the words I had in my mouth and stands up quickly. I know I look taken aback. Edward throws me a look, I don't know what it means, and then he squeezes out past me. I watch him walk away. He looks at home for someone who acts disdainful. What a fucking paradox.

Emmett mutters something about getting drinks. I smile. He's such a boy, not wanting to be here with just the girls. I turn my attention back to the Rose and Alice. We chat and cackle - there's plenty of things to amuse us here. Drunk friends and acquaintances, random losers, the way our own silly stories and jokes seem more interesting and important after the consumption of alcohol. We make small talk with some people who drift by. They're nice and all, but not important in the grand scheme of things.

I notice the girls don't tease me about Edward now. They accept it, like we just fit together. A jigsaw piece to complete the puzzle.

Emmett comes back after a long time, complaining about queues at the bar. I wonder what's taking Edward and Jasper so long. With clinking glasses and shouted thanks, we down the drinks Emmett has bought. How much have I had now? I'm not sure. I'm not even sure I care. I just like the happy floaty feeling inside.

We talk some more, shouting and laughing over the music. Then that song comes on, the new one we all love, the one that's made for dancing. A chorus of squeals go up, the kind only drunk girls can emit. I'm not part of the choir, but I share the feeling. I want to dance!

Emmett is left with drinks and purses and a bemused smile on his face. Alice warns him to mind our table. We didn't fight for it to lose it so early in the night.

We reach the dance floor, wade and elbow our way into the centre. We form a little circle. We smile. We mouth the words. We Just Dance. We Put Our Hands Up. We're Hot then We're Cold. We're Rock Stars. We're So Damn Beautiful.

It's proper hip shaking, arms in the air dancing. It's feeling desirable and sexy and confident. It's being alone in your room with your hairbrush and your eyes closed. It's eyes open, hair tossing and being with your friends.

We're together. I'm included. Alice and Rose and I, holding hands and twirling and dancing. Angela, Jessica, Leah, Claire drift in and out of the circle and the light. We hug and move, drunkenly open with affections.

The music blends into something different and better. Something new. A beat that guides your body whether you want it to or not. A melody that resonates in your ears and your soul. It's edgy and dancey. It's magnetic and inclusive. It's a remix; it's new. I don't know and don't care.

The crowd, quite literally, goes wild. The dance floor gets tighter and hotter as revellers flock to it, abandoning drinks and potential hook-ups. I wonder, briefly, what it would be like if Edward came along and moved with his hands on my hips.

But that thought it squashed and dismissed as energy seeps into my blood, my bones. Edward doesn't seem the dancing type anyway.

Still dancing and this is more than what we had before. This is raw and primal. We're not drunken girls on a sad little night out. We're something more. Lights chase across bodies and skin. People touch, hot and moving like worms in the earth. Strobe lights make us a tribe - something unworldly, something that feasts on song and movement to survive.

We're young. Alive. Together.

These are the moments we live for. The reasons we get dressed up and go out.

Hands in the air, we bounce as best we can in stilettos. Eyes closed and music consuming everything.

The DJ here is never this good, this risky. I open my eyes and peer through the crowd. Fog and brightness cloud my vision. Arms held high, choppy and seemingly detached from bodies make it hard to focus. How can I think of anything but the music? And Edward. He is always present in the back of my mind. I think he would like this song.

At the front of the circular dance floor, Lauren and that Victoria girl use pillars as makeshift poles. They swivel their hips too much for this type of music. My lips form a wry smile. Not everyone gets it.

Self-consciousness suddenly strikes me, like I've been caught doing something I shouldn't. I falter in my movements, feeling aware and bare. The girls are still lost in the music. No-one is looking at me. I shake it off as the song continues - dance, free and exuberant. Get lost again for a little while.

This music is too good for this club, I remember, looking at the DJ booth again.

I don't expect to see Edward looking back at me.

He stands, relaxed and casual. Above and separated from the crowd. He holds the speaker of one leather headphone to his ear and his left hand juts out stiff above a turntable. _He_ is the one mixing the song that speaks to us all. The one that owns our souls right now.

Edward is in the shadows of a glass booth, shielded by smoke and lights. The dancers are worshipping him in their own way, but they don't look at him. Don't know this quiet boy is sharing a gift with them. He should be proud but that's not the expression I see on his face. I can't name it, there's too much there. All handsome and intense and something more - passion maybe?

The crowd is dense and I am but a body in it's midst. But he is watching me, singling me out. I can feel it. So can he. Our gazes are locked. We are one. I look into his eyes and see infinity.

-

_Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated._

_Thanks to anyone who answered my random twitter questions to help me out with these chapters.  
_

_I posted a one-shot _**Connected, **_for the Tattward and Inkella contest, that I think some of you might enjoy. Check it out if you wish. I'm really happy to say it's made it to the final round of voting, though I it hasn't a hope in hell of winning. Don't forget to show support to your favourites!_


	9. Chapter 9

_And sometimes I get nervous,__  
When I see an open door,  
Close your eyes, Clear your heart, Cut the cord_

_-_

I've stopped moving - completely still as the throng of people twist and turn around me. There are no spotlights here, only strobes and disco lights, but it feels like one is shining directly on me, lighting and heating my skin.

Someone, I don't know who, notices my sudden stillness. My arm is tugged and my eyes are drawn to my right.

"Bella?" Alice asks. "Are you okay?" I nod a silent yes. I don't want to tell her about Edward, don't want to ruin his enigma. But maybe she already knows?

"Do you need to sit down? Water? Bathroom?" she presses.

I shake my head. Rose looks at me with concern. I look back up and I can't see Edward any more. The song has changed, still quick paced and deep, but to me the energy has gone.

"I'm gonna get some water," I say, beginning to push my way off the dance floor. "I'll catch you guys up."

I don't look back to see if they're going to follow. The crowd is dense and I have to fight my way through. I brush past faceless people, seeing only clothes and make-up and hair and skin. Drinkers are waiting at the bar, lined up in rows of two and three. They talk over shoulders and push with their elbows. I'm small, plain and alone. Clearly at the disadvantage here. Eventually, I reach the sticky wooden bar top and get my water. I gulp it back, the coolness and freshness is more invigorating than any alcohol.

Fresh air. That's what I need. I begin to cross the treacherous journey to the smoking section outside. I'm alert and wary. Don't make eye-contact with anyone. God knows what kind of lecherous losers a young tipsy girl alone in the club will attract. I meet some people I know - two harmless boys from Spanish class, a girl from Alice's school, the younger sister of one of dad's buddies. The speak to me but I don't make the effort to hear them. I smile and nod instead, before going on my way.

I'm almost at the exit, when a warm hand grabs my elbow. I prepare to bat it away, but find Edward by my side. I smile at him and he smiles back. It's kinda goofy. He raises one finger to me, the universal sign for _give me a second. _I notice that his finger is long and tapered and his nails are short and clean. I like that.

I wait patiently while he finishes up whatever conversation he is having. It's with the dark haired guy from before and I figure he must be the one who's got the connections to the DJ.

"Shit," Edward mumbles as the guy heads back to the booth. "That was rude. I shoulda introduced you to Garrett. I told him all about your rant on the predictable music."

I flush with embarrassment. "In that case, I'm glad you didn't. How do you know him?"

"Oh just from around. His girlfriend is a wicked saxophone player. I've played with her before. He's into this experimental shit, mixing classic and modern. It's fairly cool, if you've got an open mind."

"Oh." I'm thinking again about how there's whole side of Edward I know nothing about. I'd like to, though. "How come he's working here then?"

"This shit keeps a roof over his head. He doesn't give a fuck for it really. Why do you think he let me mess around like that?"

"I thought you were really good."

He is nonchalant. "You said you wanted something different."

"I got that, didn't I?"

"And I noticed you seemed to enjoy it?"

"The whole place seemed to enjoy it." I am still red. How unattractive would it be to hold the glass of water to my forehead? Let the icy sweating droplets cool me down.

Edward takes a step closer. The heat of his body feels dangerous. There is a new look on his face, the cocky smirk has been replaced with something sweet.

"You did like it though?" he verifies.

"Yeah," I smile. "I did."

"Good. Where are you off to?" he asks.

"Just wanted some fresh air."

"I see. You must need to cool down after all that dancing."

I'm not embarrassed now. His tone is playful, teasing. I like this mischievousness between us.

"Something like that."

"Wanna get a drink first? Then I'll go out for a smoke with you," he asks.

"I'll wait," I say. "But I'm okay for a drink."

"No fucking way, Bella. You have to let me buy you a drink." Edward's hand finds the small of my back and he starts to lead me over to the other bar. Miraculously, he gets to the front of the scrum and catches the bartender's attention immediately, greeting each other like old friends. Why does that never happen to me?

"Seriously," I protest. "I'm okay for a drink."

He throws me a look of frustration tinged annoyance and grabs my glass from my hand. Then proceeds to tip the contents onto the ground.

His expression is triumphant. "Now you have to let me buy you a drink."

"That was just water."

His pride falters, just for second before he makes a quick recovery. "All the more reason."

"I can't believe you just tipped that onto the ground. Behaviour like that is just not socially acceptable."

"There was fuck all left in the glass." He is nonplussed. "Besides, that is not the first and it sure as hell won't be the last drink spilled here tonight. And don't give me bullshit about someone having to clean it up because this dive has a policy to clean nothing until it's closed."

I can't really argue with that. He finally deigns to give the poor bartender his order. I can barely make out the quick-fire directions he rattles off.

"…Premium…don't give me that generic shit….no ice…you call that a double?…it better be cold…Bella?"

"Huh?"

"What do you want?"

"Vodka and redbull?"

He nods to the bartender. "Make that two." Then he flashes a charming smile, they both laugh and Edward hands over a big tip. I don't even try to understand. He knocks back his straight vodka with a satisfied gulp and I gag a little.

"How can you drink that straight?" I wonder.

He shrugs. "I never thought about it."

"Do you like the taste?"

"Sure."

The bartender sets our drinks down on the bar . I sip mine slowly.

"Then why did you order these as well?" I ask.

"You ask a lot of questions. Because I wanted to. Does there have to be a reason?" That was clearly a rhetorical question. Edward heads towards the door then, his warm hand guiding me along. I decide I like that feeling. The crowd seems smaller with him by my side.

Outside, smokers huddle conspiratorially under heated lamps. Edward leads me into an empty corner, all dark and shadowy. The din here is less intense -more of a steady buzz than a pulsating roar. It's easier to talk, though it's only just struck me that I could hear Edward perfectly well inside.

I try to be discreet as I observe him, wondering why the hell every little thing he does captivates me so. Ordinary things - fumbling in his pockets for the his cigarettes, holding the little white stick in lean fingers, and balancing it in the same hand as his glass, the way his head bows and his eyes close as he lights it. These things shouldn't be fascinating but they are. He offers one to me but I decline.

"Thought you were a social smoker?" He asks, cocking his head to the side and hair casting little shadows across his face.

"Only when I feel like it." I'm dizzy enough without adding smoke to the equation. Edward takes a sip of his drink and makes that cute little grimace again.

"This shit always makes me hyper."

I roll my eyes. "That's kind of the point."

"Whatever. It's so sweet. I can feel the sugar on my teeth."

He sure does complain a lot. It should be annoying, but I find it kinda endearing.

"You don't like sweet things?" I ask.

"No." Exhaling smoke, Edward runs his index finger along my collar bone where the skin is clammy. "I prefer savoury."

His tone makes me twitch. I sip my drink to try calm my nerves.

"What instrument do you play?" I ask brightly.

"Huh?"

"Earlier, you said you play sometimes."

"Oh. Piano mostly. I mess around with some percussion stuff. I like arranging music - mixing, putting pieces together. That sorta thing."

"How come you're not in the school band?"

"Because they fucking suck," he scoffs. "I went to one practice when I first moved here. They played _Mary Has A Little Lamb _for two hours and they still sounded like a pack of dying cats."

"I didn't know you were so into music," I remark, still laughing at his kinda funny disparaging words.

"There's a lot about me you don't know," Edward says, with one of those sinful smirks of his.

"I wouldn't mind finding out." The words leave my mouth before I can stop them and they cause this tense silence, where he just fucking looks at me and makes my heart pound with the force of his gaze.

"I bet there's a lot about you that I don't know," Edward says after a long moment.

"Not really," I reply. "There's nothing strange or startling about me."

"I find that hard to believe," he murmurs, low and husky. "There has to be something. Hobbies. Talents. Skeletons in the closet…"

This is a hard question. It's not that I'm completely useless or pathetic. I'm just…ordinary. I like reading, cooking, watching tv and hanging with my friends. I mean, I'm not ashamed of that or anything. It's just normal shit. But to say that to a potential love interest sounds pretty damn boring.

"Let me think…" I trail off playfully. "I can roll my tongue."

"Wow. Fascinating." He feigns interest, pretends to be serious. "I think I need to see evidence if this amazing talent."

I willingly demonstrate. Edward's definitely a very good actor. He acts downright captivated by the silly sight of my tongue sticking out.

"Anything I do will just pale in comparison to that," he jokes. "Piano playing… Djing,…it'll never match that."

"Well I've never seen you play piano. Maybe that would be more impressive."

"I'll show you sometime," he promises. "Let you be the judge of that."

"I'll hold you to that."

I look around and there are multiple couples, leaning in and talking in ears, just like the way Edward and I are. Everyone knows the smoking area is where the real interaction happens on a night out. All these people, trading meaningless compliments in the hopes of making a connection, if only for a night. What makes us any different?

A shape lurches towards me, screeching and slurring my name and stumbling on the flat surface.

"Leah," I groan in greeting. "You okay?"

Edward looks at me like I just asked the world's most ridiculous question. Leah is very clearly out of her mind drunk. She clings to me too tight, leaning on me and depending on me to keep her balanced.

"You're my friend." Leah coos at me, her face too close to mine, her breath stinking of alcohol. "And you -" She pokes Edward in the chest. "You threw stones at my brother."

"I did what?" Edward asks, sceptically.

I address Leah slowly. "_With, _not at your brother." I turn to Edward. "Leah is Seth's older sister."

"I love you, Bella." She rests her head on her shoulder, gives me bloodshot puppy dog eyes.

"Sure ya do," I reply, looking pleadingly at a mildly amused Edward. Leah's head lolls against my neck, her long hair swishing down past my waist. We're attracting more than a few curious looks and I'm suddenly feeling very sober.

"You!" She jabs Edward with her finger again, missing his chest and landing somewhere around his elbow. "You better not hurt Bella. She's a nice girl, too good for this shit."

"I won't," Edward's voice is dry and bored. He doesn't even try to humour her. I look at him apologetically.

"Men are bastards, Bella. All they do is hurt you. They tell you they love you and then they go and get your cousin pregnant!"

I knew it!

I don't get to shout this though, as much as I would like to, because a deathly silence has overtaken the smoking area. I swear, if you try hard enough, you would hear crickets chirping above the music. Then blatant whispers and pointed looks are cast our way as the rumour mill goes into overdrive. I look at Edward - the only non-shocked face in the vicinity. He simply doesn't care about small town drama.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Leah moans, her cheeks puffing out ominously.

"Puke. Lovely," Edward comments.

"I better bring her to the bathroom."

"Yeah. I think that would be wise." His face is blank. "I should really check on Jasper anyway.

"Sorry." I say it though I really have nothing to apologize for. "About Leah."

"Me too," he says soft and full of regret.

I support Leah's weight and walk us over to the toilets. Mentally, I am fuming the entire time. Stupid Leah for interrupting us. Stupid Bella for feeling I have to look after her. Stupid Emily for forgetting to take her pill. Leah's not even really my friend. But I'm a good person and I can't just abandon her.

I deposit Leah into the nearest vacant stall and leave her at it. We're not close enough for me to hold her hair back. I'm not completely heartless though. I find a hair-tie in my bag and give it to her.

Might as well use the toilet while I'm here. And check my make-up. I refresh a little and then perch on the counter while Leah purges the alcohol from her system. The horrid sound of her retching soon sends the other patrons fleeing to the upstairs toilet.

Only one cubicle remains occupied, and I can see two sets of sky-high stilettos under the door. A telltale sniffing sound drifts out and those girls sure ain't crying. Leah is saying words and making noises that I can barely comprehend.

"…such a good friend….men are bastards….always pulled out when…going to be godmother…don't remember eating chicken…" Cough. Retch. Gawk. How can she speak and puke at the same time?

I murmur some encouraging sounds, hums and haws to placate her. Where the fuck is Claire? She brought her out, why isn't she helping her out?

I check my phone and see a text from Alice enquiring about my whereabouts. I send a quick reply filling her in on the situation. Before I can do anything else, the door of the other cubicle swings open and out struts Lauren and that Victoria girl. Great.

"Hey Bella." Lauren's voice is unnaturally high pitched and laced with saccharine sweetness.

"Hey girls." I flash an insincere smile right back at them, as they wipe the tear stains from shiny faces and dab at their glassy eyes. They keep sniffing and wiping under their noses. Discreet.

"Whatcha doing just sitting there, Bella?" Lauren asks. "Lose your friends?" This makes her laugh hysterically. I don't know why.

"Just admiring the view." Giving these wasters a straight answer is not a priority of mine. They almost look like they believe me, until the sound of particularly forceful heave from Leah echoes bounces off the grimy blue tiles.

"Looks like someone can't handle her drink," mocks Victoria.

"Looks like someone else should mind their own business," I reply. Leah might be an annoying harpy but Jesus, she's going through a hard time. Cut the girl some slack. That shits only okay when I say it.

"You're a feisty one." Victoria throws her head back and cackles, then leans close to my ear. "Want a line? It won't fuck you up like your friend in there."

I shiver. Lauren stops bouncing on the soles of her feet and looks at me agog. Did she seriously just say coke _won't _fuck you up.

"Nah. I'm good." I find myself pressing my back against the wall. "Thanks anyway."

"Suit yourself." She shrugs. "C'mon Lauren, lets go see if they're actually playing something we can dance to now."

The door opens then, letting in snippets of music and laughter as well as one angry looking girl. Please let there be no catfights in my presence.

Tanya saunters in, all natural beauty and piercing eyes, and gives Victoria a look that could kill.

"Did I really just hear you pushing drugs in here, V?" Tanya looks her straight in the eye. Lauren cowers in the corner. I wonder if there's anyway I could get Leah and I out of here before the shit hit's the fan.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Victoria gives Tanya a patronising look, then stalks out of the room in a haze of indignation, arrogance, perfume and Lauren.

I continue to sit like a lemon on the counter, feeling awkward and intimidated by Tanya. I don't know her, not really. She's worked with Rose a couple times and she seems nice enough, albeit scarily beautiful. She's got that ice queen thing going on. I haven't seen her since all those rumours went around about her. Her perfect button nose wrinkles at the sound of another stomach turning retch and my own patience is wearing thin. Honestly, how much vomit can one person produce?

"I'm still need to puke but nothing else will come out," Leah whines between bouts of dry-retching. Guess that answers my question.

"For the love of God," I mutter, searching through my phonebook for Claire's number. She needs to get up here and take care of her friend.

"Give her this." Tanya hands me a half-full bottle of water.

"Thanks." I take it and pass it under the door to Leah. "Drink this. It'll help."

"Bella, right?" Tanya asks me, with a friendly smile. "Rosalie's friend."

"Yeah." I return her smile. "I don't think we've ever formally met before."

"You had the misfortune of putting up with the skank twins, I see."

"Don't you mean the coke twins? I'm not gonna lie, I was pretty damn relieved when you helped send them on their way."

Tanya shakes her head, strawberry blonde hair dancing around her shoulders. "It was nothing. I just hate the fact that Victoria would be more than willing to give that junk to another girl who wouldn't have the sense to say no."

I nod in agreement. What else is there to do? That fact is sad but it is undeniable true.

I see Tanya observe me out of the corner of her eye, the way you do when you're trying to get the measure of someone. I look at my feet, self-consciousness weighing me down, and all those rumours come flooding back.

"Don't worry, little Bee, I'm not checking you out," Tanya scoffs.

"I never though that you were." As if someone like her would want me.

"I wouldn't go after someone that was spoken for," she continues, all matter of fact.

"Huh?"

"You're here with Edward Cullen right? I saw you two talking downstairs."

"No! I mean, I'm here with Edward. But I'm not with Edward. Not like that," I stammer and stutter. Tanya stands in front of the mirror, beautiful and perfectly poised.

"That's not what it looked like from my perspective," she says with a small shrug. "Little Bee, you might think you're not with Edward. But that boy is definitely with you. He couldn't take his eyes off you."

"Don't talk to her about boys!" Leah slurs from her spot on the toilet floor. "Boys should all rot in hell and have to sit on peed-on toilet seats for the rest of their existence."

I cringe but Tanya laughs heartily.

"I'm inclined to agree with you," she says to the closed door. "But I'm just stating a fact here. I've known Edward Cullen for a long time and I can safely say that he is bat-shit crazy about Bella here. The boy can't take his eyes off you."

"You really think that?"

"Come on girl. You'd have to be blind not to notice it."

"No," I say. "I mean, I get what you're saying. Edward is…confusing. But I totally feel this spark between us."

"Then why do you look so troubled?"

"I _really _like him. And I'm not the type of girl to just go around crushing on guys. This is a big deal for me…"

"But," Tanya prompts.

"But I don't want to be a distraction for him, or something to pass the time. We keep getting thrown together and there's all this tension…but I'm afraid that I like him more than he likes me. If something happens and it means more to me, I'll be devastated."

My worries spill effortlessly from my lips and I wonder why I thought before that Tanya was so intimidating. There's actually something very inviting about her. It's nice - to speak to someone that sees things from a different perspective. Alice and Rose mean well, but sometimes it's hard to believe them. Friends have to say nice shit. Also, all that vodka has definitely loosened my tongue.

"First of all," Tanya says with a hint of frustration. "If some boy likes you less than you like him, you will not be _devastated. _It would suck balls but you would pick yourself up and move on. Got that?"

I nod obediently.

"Second of all." Her voice is softer now. "Take it from me that Edward Cullen doesn't do casual distractions. That boy is sex on a stick and he could have any girl he wanted."

Way to make me feel better, Tee.

"But have you ever seen or heard of him having random hook-ups?" she presses.

I shake my head, not letting myself think of all the things I don't know about him.

"Exactly," Tanya continues. "He's too sensitive for that shit. Too intense. He wants to _feel_ things and to _know _all about a person before he decides if they're worth his time. And it looks like you passed the test. And what I'm about to tell you next better not leave this room."

"Okay. Don't forget about Leah though."

Tanya laughs heartily. "Do you really think she'll remember this in the morning?"

"I guess not."

"So I'm a lesbian," she states. I am amazed at the casual way she says it. "Don't give me that look, little Bee. I know I've been the talk of the town for months now and to be quite honest, I couldn't give a rat's ass what anyone thinks of me. But I wasn't always so comfortable with it, as shocking at that may seem. I've known Edward for a long time; our families go way back. And I while I was having my little identity crisis, I went to him to help me make some realisations."

That really is too vague for my tipsy brain to comprehend. I wrinkle my nose in confusion.

"To be blunt, I cornered him at a family gathering and practically begged him to have sex with me. I offered myself to him on a plate and he shot me down in his signature odd sense of politeness and abrasiveness."

"He turned _you _down?" I ask in disbelief. Heck, I'd nearly swing the other way for her.

"I know. I couldn't believe it either." She is completely sincere.

"Did he know?" I ask. "That you're a…"

"A lesbian?" She gives me a look. "No. He didn't. It would have been less humiliating if he did. He just wasn't feeling it. I told you, Edward doesn't take these things lightly. So if he's spending time with you it means that -"

"He really likes me."

Tanya gives me a breath-taking smile, all white teeth and red lips and genuine happiness.

"Isn't that what I've been telling you?" Tanya asks. "No what are you dong hanging out in the girls bathroom?"

I jump down from my seat on the counter, full of drunken determination, and take a glance in the mirror to make sure I'm still presentable. Leah finally emerges from the stall, wiping her mouth and looking a little worse for wear. Her eyes are bleary and bloodshot, her face is shiny and her breath is gross. I hand her a stick of gum and my make-up bag.

"Thanks, Bella," Leah says.

"S'okay." I'm watching Tanya eye her speculatively.

"Your girl's a mess," she comments. "But she's a hot mess. If you want, I'll being her to her friend. Claire, isn't it? The little curly-headed girl."

"I don't want to put you out…" I begin, looking worriedly at the inebriated girl valiantly applying fresh blusher.

"Do you think I would offer if I didn't want to?" Tanya asks bluntly. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hit on her. Not while she's in that state anyway."

"It's fine, Bells." Leah waves at me dismissively. "Go. I'm after texting Claire and she's gonna meet me at the bar. It's cool."

"If you're sure…"

"Little Bee, go get your man." Tanya slaps me on the ass and I dash out the bathroom door, back into the club proper. The noise and the lights and the music all hit me full force. I'm disorientated for a second. I take a moment to blink and get my bearings before I begin making my way through the crowd. The air is hot and every inch of space is packed with energy and writhing bodies. I push and shove and manoeuvre myself until I finally reach our table. I'm shocked to find Alice and Rose sitting there, talking among themselves and looking decidedly glum.

"What's up guys?" I plop into the seat beside them.

"There you are," Rose pokes me. "I was about to send out the search party. Have your finished doing your Mother Teresa impression with Leah?"

"That's not nice," Alice pipes up. "You wouldn't like to be left in her state."

"_I _wouldn't get into that state." Rose is smug and all I can do is raise my eyebrows. We've all been there.

"Leah's got extenuating circumstances," Alice continues. Ah, the speed at which bad news travels in this town is quite amazing.

" True. Besides, I got talking to Tanya," I offer. "That's what held me up."

"Really? What about," Rosalie asks.

"Not much." I want to change the subject. "Where are the boys?" What I mean is, where is Edward but I'm not about to come right out with it.

"Gone home," Alice replies mournfully.

"What?" There is panic in my voice. "Why?"

"Jasper was feeling uncomfortable so he and Emmett left," Alice explains.

"And what about -"

"Lover boy?"

"Edward."

"He's still around somewhere." Alice waves vaguely off to her left and I scan the crowd for a glimpse of the only person I want to see. I look past some girls from school laughing like hyenas. I avoid looking at James, skulking in a dark corner. Then I spot him, taller than the rest and messy copper hair glowing under red lights, by the bar. He's talking to that barman from earlier, fiddling with a glass while his companion laughs along at something Edward's said. I want to know what he said, and to be the one to benefit from his jokes.

Edward turns his head. His eyes search the crowded room and come to rest on our table. He looks at me and smiles and I return his grin automatically. A quick goodbye nod to his friend, and he is moving - walking towards me without ever taking his eyes from mine. I think I hear one of the girls make vague mock-puking sounds but I can't bring myself to look. I've had enough of that for one night.

Edward sets a full bottle of vodka, ice and some glasses on the table. Guess it pays to have connections. Alice and Rose offer profuse thanks and admiration. I mumble something nonsensical. Drinks are poured, rough glasses make dull clinking, and my three companions knock back the icy-hot liquid. I don't think I can do it.

"What's wrong Bella?" Edward's voice is soft when he notices my hesitation.

"I can't drink it straight," I explain.

"Sure you can. You just _think _you can't."

"No. I'm pretty sure my weak stomach _knows _I can't."

"I can get you a mixer if you want." Edward leans close, whispering in my ear and making me tingle. "Or, you can drink this and I promise you'll like it."

"Promise?"

Edward nods. "This is the premium stuff. Quadruple distilled. The good kind of burn. Named after one of my favourite composers. It's not meant to be diluted by some sticky soft drink." He holds the glass under my nose. "How does it smell?"

"Fine. Good actually. Not like nail polish remover, which is always a plus."

"True." Edward presses the cool glass into my clammy hand, wrapping my fingers around it. His other hand tilts my chin upwards towards him. "Try it," he urges.

I stop thinking, stop second guessing. I raise the drink to my lips and swallow every last drop.

It's good. Not delicious or anything, but good. It makes me shudder a little, heats up my throat and my face still scrunches up a little. But it's also clean, different, the aftertaste makes me smack my lips together. This may be acquired taste but I could get used to it. I turn and smile at Edward triumphantly. He wraps one arm around my shoulder in tiny celebratory hug. He squeezes me, crushing my body to his and I don't want him to ever let go.

"I knew you could do it," he murmurs, then pulls back with a twinkle in his eye. "How was it?"

"Not bad."

"Bella, that's a seventy dollar bottle of vodka."

"In that case…" I pretend to think about it. "It could have been a little sweeter."

"What am I going to do with you?" Edward tugs my hair playfully. "Perhaps another drink will help?"

"Maybe later."

"Bella?" Alice clears her throat. Shit. I forgot they were even here. "We're gonna go…for a walk."

Rose shoots her a look. "Dance. She means dance. Be back in a few."

They scuttle away from the table and okay, I get that they were trying to be subtle but the message is clear. They're giving me and Edward some privacy. I love them for it.

"Was your friend alright?" Edward's sudden question startles me a little.

"Yeah. She hurled an ocean worth of puke and I sent her off with Claire."

"I was starting to worry." He takes another sip of his drink. "You were gone an awfully long time."

"I got talking to Tanya," I offer, without thinking it through.

"Really? I didn't know you two were friends?"

"We're not really. I know her a little through Rosalie and she helped me out a bit with Leah. Then we got talking."

"What did you find to talk about?" Edward asks, too carefully.

"This and that. Girl stuff."

"Is that code for _mind your own business Edward _ or a vague way of informing me that I was the topic of conversation?"

"Conceited much?" I nudge him with my shoulder. "I'm not going to answer that question. So where did Emmett and Jasper take off to?"

"Changing the subject much?" he teases. " They went home. Two worldly college kids like them are getting too sophisticated for a place like this."

"Okay." That's all I say, fully convinced that he's keeping something from me and waiting for him to go on.

"You know Jasper doesn't drink anymore? He just gets a little uncomfortable with all the crowds and the alcohol, so Emmett took him home."

"That's understandable," I tell him.

"It's just not something he wants advertised."

"Is that why he jumped up when you were going outside for a cigarette a while ago?" I wonder aloud, shouting over thumping soul-less music. My filter has been totally eradicated tonight.

"I guess so." Edward looks down into his drink and I watch him, staring blatantly. His eyes shine deep and dark shadows highlight the angle of his cheekbone. His skin is flushed and I can feel the warmth of his body.

A song comes on - one that makes you bob your head and move in time to the music. It's not a patch on what Edward played, but it's good still. Fun and free and all around, thumping in my ears and seeping into my bones. Edward taps one foot absentmindedly beside me, and I feel the rough brush of denim scrape against my thigh.

"Like this song?" I turn to Edward, his face closer to mine than expected.

"It's not bad," he answers casually.

"Wanna dance?"

Edward kind of smirks and glances towards the jam-packed dance floor. I'm getting claustrophobic just looking at it.

"I don't do dance floors," he replies. "But don't let me hold you back." His long fingers wrap around my wrist and tug me upright.. I almost stumble and have to grab onto his shoulder for balance. Then I am on my feet, and my body is fuelled by alcohol. The atmosphere is young and lively and all around me - lights and laughter and heat and music. I'm moving, my hands, my legs, my hips.

And Edward's eyes are on me, I can feel them and I feel his hands lightly dance along the back of my knee. I don't mind him watching me, I actually kind of like it, but I'm not putting on a show.

"You're not getting off that easy!" I bend low and pull him to his feet. He comes willingly, laughing in my ear and arms circling my waist. I'm dancing again and so is he and it feels so natural. I can feel his hands and his body and his rhythm. It's sensual and innocent and exhilarating.

We're close - breath on neck and hair on skin close. There's no-one else, we might as well be alone. My heart is pounding and if I lean just so, I can feel that his is too. I keep my eyes closed - if I open them I'll be blinded by beauty and light.

I realise that I like this feeling of not being alone.

Voice and music and blood rush in my ears and I want to feel this high forever. If I keep going, we'll keep climbing and everything will be okay and we'll get closer until there's nothing between us but want and admiration.

Edward grabs me, almost roughly, until my body is flush against his and all I can move is my hips. We're closer and closer. Just a breath between us. I open my eyes and find his blazing green down at me. I want. I need. I'm ready.

I exhale. I lick my lips. He opens his.

The music stops and the lights come on. Edward doesn't look away and neither do I. We can't.

"Guys!" I hear Rosalie's voice and reluctantly make myself look in the direction. "Um…sorry to, um, interrupt."

"It's okay." Edward's jaw is set and his voice is very steady. "We should probably hit the road anyway."

"Wait," I say, looking around. "How come you're alone?"

"I met Tanya and got distracted. I figured we'd all meet back here," Rosalie creases her perfectly arched eyebrows together.

"Then where's Alice?"

-

_Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated._


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